


Bed Partners

by FreckledSkittles



Series: Because Of You, I Have Company [4]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Birthday Sex, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Car Sex, Chair Bondage, Come Eating, Come Marking, Coming Untouched, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Play, Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr. Has a Praise Kink, Edging, Facials, First Dates, Hair-pulling, Light Angst, Light Bondage, Lingerie, M/M, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Bottom Rafael Barba, Praise Kink, Riding, Rimming, Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Content, Sloppy Bottom Rafael Barba, Slow Burn, So here we are, Teasing, Vibrators, Yeah you read that right, frogtied, god there are so many tags, i think this was already in a chapter but i forgot to add it like a fool, lets just get that one out of the way, look im not saying sex is sonnys birthday gift but sex is basically sonnys birthday gift, oh??? qu'est que c'est, oho, so many tags im sorry everyone, sonny carisi has Legs, there i said it, these tags will only get filthier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2020-10-06 11:36:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 78,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20506328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreckledSkittles/pseuds/FreckledSkittles
Summary: Sonny Carisi had one dinner party at the very beginning of March and found out that the attraction he had for Rafael Barba was not as unrequited as he had once thought. They settled for sex around a basis of rules: no first names; no consecutive weekends; no eye contact. For a long time, they stayed within their boundaries, and both of them were able to live with the routine they had going.Until they didn’t. So they got rid of them.Now, ten months after their personal relationship became contained by bedsheets and bare skin, Sonny wonders if the rules were the only thing keeping him from addressing the very real feelings that bloom in his chest every time he looks at Rafael Barba. And Rafael wonders if, without the rules, they could be anything, including exclusive romantic partners.This is how they decide.





	1. Explore

**Author's Note:**

> So after I wrote "Because of the Rules" I was struck with the idea of "what if sex but more?" And at the same time, my friend soul_writerr said "what if sex but NO rules?" And if anything, the Barisi Twitter fandom is encouraging of the things that I consider bad ideas. So when I ask if I should write an eight-chapter smut fest where Rafael Barba and Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr. have exploratory kinky sex, the answer is "well wHY NOT?"
> 
> And to that I say: touché
> 
> I'm not a smut writer; a majority of the things I write are fluffy angst fics with multiple chapters that take me five years to write. (No lie I have a story for another fandom that I haven't posted and it's been a WIP since 2016.) So when I get hit with a craving to write some smut, I feel obligated to drop everything I'm doing (including that Totally Not A Stardew Valley AU But Is Totally A Stardew Valley AU featuring farmer Sonny and cranky dog owner Rafael) and crank it out so HERE WE GO
> 
> Shout out to soul_writerr and mforpaul for encouraging me to write this and cheering me on when I got stuck or just wanted to update them. I have something planned for both of you in the eighth chapter ;)

“Just to be clear,” Barba says as he pulls Sonny into his office and shuts the door, “this is not a work matter.”

“Oh.” Sonny, who had rushed over to Hogan Place after meeting up with an eyewitness, folds his notes back and returns them to the inside of his suit jacket. Lieu had sent him over to Barba’s office on the pretext that his presence was needed in regards to a case that was heading to trial in a few weeks. “I thought you wanted my notes for the Barsden trial?”

“I do.” Barba holds out his hand, and Sonny scrambles to pull the folded pages back out and hand them to the attorney. “I also wanted to extend an invitation to you.”

“Oh.” Their relationship has been casual—built on sex, avoiding romance, and enjoying the company of someone who was at least a little like-minded—and Sonny would even argue it has gone well. They aren’t dating, he has to remind himself, but their need for general intimacy is still sought out with each other. In a world that can get dark easily, it takes some strength to keep the light around it. And ever since they agreed to break off the rules—no first names, no consecutive weekends, no eye contact—they allowed themselves a bit more leniency for meeting up and what they did during their time together.

Barba, both his jacket and vest hanging off the chair behind his desk, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, drops the notes off on his desk and strides over to the coffee maker. He pours a cup and prepares it the way Sonny likes: a bit of cream, two sugars, and a dash of cinnamon from the stash hidden behind the sugar packets. “When was the last time we met outside of work?”

Sonny shrugs. Two months had passed since they had called off the rules, but most recently, it had been a week and a half since their last night together. “I dunno. Last week?”

“Ten days.” He hands Sonny the coffee with a smirk. “Almost two weeks. But that’s not the point I want to make. How much time do you have?”

“Ten minutes, maybe. Why? What’s going on?” Sonny playfully nudges him, hoping the topic isn’t as serious as he thinks. There are a handful of reasons for an invitation other than work, and each one is a worst-case scenario.

“This Friday, I’m speaking at a conference in town, so my schedule is clear for the day. I speak at nine, I’m on a panel at ten, and I’m getting out of there by noon.” Barba reaches up to straighten Sonny’s tie, adjusting the maroon knot and sliding a hand down the steel gray suit. Sonny sears the roof of his mouth from the gulp of coffee he throws back. “I can bring a guest along. You’ll be cleared from work, and we can…have some fun when it’s all said and done.”

“Yeah?” The only way his mind can work is through short words and phrases. Anything longer than that fries his brain to bits. Rafael shouldn’t be able to look at him like that: eyes half-lidded, jet black pupils shoving away wonderfully green irises, a shy tongue flickering across his lower lip for a split second, while the corners of his mouth twitch in an attempt to smile without revealing his true intentions. Sonny can’t help but wonder if Barba knows the exact effect he has on him.

“Yeah. We could spend the rest of the day at your place, just…” He trails off, one hand wandering to Sonny’s lower back and the other gripping his bicep. Sonny stays still, not willing to move, and keeps the rim of his cup on his lips. “Explore each other.”

Oh. Sex. That’s what their personal relationship entails most of all. Sonny goes over it briefly and doesn’t see a problem with the suggestion. The second he can breathe evenly and get a solid thought out, he’ll confirm the plan as many times as he has to. For now, he likes the feel of Barba—Rafael—hanging an arm around his waist and the pressure of his fingers tight on his arm. He’s already thinking about what type of “exploring” they could get up to.

Sonny clears his throat and nods his head. “Yeah. Totally, yeah. Let’s do that.”

“Good. We can talk later about the details over dinner.” With a flourish, Rafael moves back and returns to his desk. If he means to sway his hips and take his time with the short walk back, he doesn’t show it. “My place at seven. Thai or Chinese?”

“Surprise me.” Sonny downs his coffee and tosses it in the trash, but he stops himself from walking out of the office. He knows their moment of intimacy is broken—work is hanging around their heads, and he’s still on call—but he knows the words he wants to use will only turn the situation sour. They were too intimate for their situation. Maybe enough to make Rafael rescind his offer of a weekend together, but enough that the mere possibility of ruining things shuts him up, and he leaves with a confirmation of the time and a nod.

Sonny Carisi had one dinner party at the very beginning of March and found out that the attraction he had for Rafael Barba was not as unrequited as he had once thought. Neither of them was sure if a romantic relationship was necessary, considering the stress their line of work put them under and how much work romance would take, so they settled for sex around a basis of rules. They wouldn’t use their first names; they would meet at least every other week; they wouldn’t look each other in the eye during sex. Their work relationship hadn’t changed, thankfully, and they have remained professional. For a long time, they stayed within their boundaries, and both of them were able to live with the routine they had going.

Until they didn’t. Until Rafael found out how much Sonny liked having his hair pulled. Until Sonny ran his hands down Rafael’s lower back over and over again. Until a particularly rough week forced them into each other’s space, shattering each rule they had set up. Until they realized that there was no point in keeping the rules eight months into their affair. If anything, they were doing it because it was the only thing they knew. So they got rid of them.

Now, ten months after their personal relationship became contained by bedsheets and bare skin, Sonny wonders if the rules were the only thing keeping him from addressing the very real feelings that bloom in his chest every time he looks at Rafael Barba. He wonders if dating would actually be a good idea, considering all the time they already spend together. Most importantly, he wonders if Rafael sees him in the same state: a person who has wrung his way into his life, sexually first and then romantically, and who might not want to leave.

Sonny clears his head with a light slap to the cheek and drives back to SVU, tabling his concerns for another time.

* * *

Dinner is good—more than good, but Sonny puts on a mindless reality show to make fun of while they eat, and Rafael complains during commercial breaks until he finishes his dinner and has nothing left to distract him. He thumbs through his phone then, looking at emails or texts and eyeing the television whenever Sonny reacts to it. Sonny isn’t offended by it; Amanda roped him into trashy television shows in the first place. He watches them out of habit instead of real interest.

Rafael cleans up for them, the program ends, and Sonny finds himself following Rafael into the kitchen to help with any extra plastic utensils or organizing the sauces into the junk drawer. His body thrums with nervous energy, the reminder of what their discussion will entail keeping him moving on his feet and hopping in place. A thousand ideas pop into his head—push Rafael against the counter and kiss him, bend over the counter and let Rafael take everything he offers, sink to his knees and suck Rafael until his throat hurts—wrap his arms around Rafael’s waist and hold him close, sway to an imaginary beat and admire the man in front of him, kiss him slow and easy and calm—but he settles on none of them. Instead, Rafael takes a seat at the island counter and pats the chair next to him for Sonny to join him.

“I didn’t mean to keep you waiting all day,” he begins when Sonny sits beside him. Both of them are still dressed for work, just dressed down and without the added rush of having to be somewhere. Rafael even has his tie off, and Sonny lets his hang loose around his neck. “But I want this to be a serious discussion, and I didn’t want to rush it because I had a meeting or you got called in.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Sonny waves his concern away and smiles at him, hoping to ease away some of it and help him adjust into a post-work mindset. “Honest. I understand.”

“I know, and I thank you for that. I just wanted to be clear first. This isn’t…an easy conversation.”

“Why, you got something you wanna tell me?” He means it as a joke, and for a second, it looks like it was taken that way. But Rafael’s eyebrows furrow, and Sonny feels his gut drop to the ground floor of his building.

“We sort of…bonded when we discovered our erogenous zones, wouldn’t you say?”

“Sure. It was bonding.” If a weekend of sex and constant teasing of certain spots of their bodies could be considered bonding.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I’ve come to see that moment as the start of us deciding to not have those dumb rules in place.” Rafael rolls his eyes at the mention of their restrictions, and Sonny bites back a laugh. Looking back on it, there really was no need for those rules to stay in place. It helped them move their relationship along, for sure, but that was months ago by now. “So far, our sexual relationship has done well since dropping the rules, but I think we can go deeper.”

“Deeper how?” Sonny leans forward to show his interest and hopes he comes across as curious.

“Well, for the, how long was it, ten months that we followed the rules, we didn’t really do anything new. We had sex, tried a few positions, but we haven’t really talked about…” Rafael falters on the last word, a pretty flush of red suddenly rising on his cheeks, “we haven’t discussed kinks. I’m not asking you to tell me what you’re into,” he adds quickly before Sonny can even open his mouth. “I just want to know if you’re as interested in talking about it as I am.”

Sonny takes a moment to respond even though he already knows his answer. He doesn’t typically focus on additions to sex—call it the good Catholic boy in him—but only because his mind doesn’t jump to it as a go-to act. For him, sex is simply another road of shared intimacy with another. And discussing small changes to their nights and then acting upon them is something he can imagine with Rafael.

“I’m definitely okay with that,” Sonny confirms with a nod. “Yes.”

“Okay. So am I. Good.” Rafael exhales, sitting up in his chair as if the released tension helps him rise. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Now that we established that, is there anything we’ve already tried?”

A laugh slips past Sonny’s lips before he can catch it, but he still covers his mouth with his hand to tame it. “I’m sorry. Are you interrogating me?”

Rafael huffs and frowns—pouts, really—cute—at the teasing remark. “I want to start somewhere familiar.”

“I mean, it’s kinda obvious I like to be praised.” His face is as red as Rafael’s was before but in a more pleasant way. Sonny was never shy about his urge to gain Rafael’s attention and acknowledgment for doing good. It was no surprise when he asked for that component to join one of their weekends together, and Rafael certainly delivered. “I guess that’s on some sorta dom-sub level?”

Maybe it was a stereotype in conversations revolved around kinks, but it was a start. The clear definition of who was giving orders and who was following them was an easy place for them to begin. Rafael nods and hums to himself, fiddling with his sleeve. “It is. We could explore that a bit more. And we can swap. After all,” he smirks slyly, “you can't spell ‘Dominick’ without ‘dom’.”

Sonny blinks;  _ that _ was a surprise. “Do you want me to be dominant?”

Rafael shrugs. “Not to say you aren’t. But I wouldn’t mind being exclusively bossed around by you.”

He scoffs. “Has anyone ever bossed you around and gotten away with it?”

“You’re the only one I trust for it.”

Well. If that didn’t sell him on the journey of exploration they were planning, nothing will. “I… Rafael—”

“Relax, it’s not Friday yet. You don’t have to seek my approval.” It’s a deflection tactic—Rafael, sensing he’s let himself get too emotional or personal, sets up a barrier and throws a snarky quip at him. It is nowhere near personal, it never has been, and Sonny knows it’s more tease than bite. He’s spent ten months with it in his bed.

So Sonny plays along, raising his hands and chuckling quietly. “Alright. Fine. How about we add some toys? Like, uh, vibrators or something?” Rafael’s eyebrows arch with interest at the suggestion, and Sonny has the sudden urge to continue (read: ramble) more offers to hide his embarrassment. “Or we could use rope for some, ah, bondage play. Or plugs. Or nothing at all. I don’t have a preference, I was just thinking, since it’s the next obvious thing to me and, I dunno, I think we can do a lot with them—”

“So do I.”

“—and, y’know, it’d be fun to tie each other up or whatever. I dunno.” His face is an inferno of humiliation, starting at his brows and ending at his neck in blotches of scarlet. Sonny can feel the surface of his skin searing in displeasure at the lack of response from Rafael. Why hasn’t he stopped him? “I’m gonna say ‘no’ to gags, though, only because I like to hear your voice and I don’t want either of us to not be able to say ‘no’ when we want. Am I being too cautious? It feels like I am—”

“Sonny.” Rafael is laughing, leaning forward to grab his biceps and steady him. “Your mouth is running faster than your mind. Take a breath.”

Sonny does as instructed, inhaling and exhaling softly, and looks at Rafael when he feels steady again. “Sorry. I guess I’m excited.”

“That much is obvious.” Rafael’s smile is subtle, his hands firm but gentle in their caress on his arms. It’s nice how biting his remarks can be when there’s a tenderness brewing at his core. Sonny is grateful he gets to see this side of him. “We don’t have to discuss every aspect of our plans. I think it’s better for us to open the door and ease into it than to rush anything. I’d rather wait and be patient than jeopardize what we have.”

“You sound a little sentimental there,” Sonny teases. Rafael only rolls his eyes and doesn’t amuse him with a response. “I’m okay with taking it one at a time. We don’t have to include everything. But…”

Rafael looks worried, his brows drooping in an expression of concern for a brief second. It’s the type of vulnerability one shows to a close partner. “But?”

“If you want,” Sonny finds a sudden urge to glare at his feet and do everything in his power to not stare the lawyer in the eye, “we can start on Friday. Just your everyday dominant-submissive roles.”

“Yes, because everyone loves a good dom-sub dynamic.”

Sarcasm is good. Sarcasm means Rafael isn’t so tense about the matter that they can’t discuss it. “Which, um, roles should we start with?”

“I’m not sure.” Green eyes examine him from head to foot, piercing him and looking through his clothes to bare skin. Sonny represses a shiver and hides it with a shift in his chair. “We can play it by ear. Unless you want to set one up. I’m not leaning any particular way.”

“I’m okay with waiting for Friday.” Sonny rolls his shoulders in a shrug. “It’ll probably be easier to sense the situation by then.”

“Mm. You’re using your big boy words tonight.”

This time, he can’t stop the shiver that clenches his spine and trail up his back. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“I’m not saying it in a bad way.” Rafael checks the time—with Sonny’s watch—and a coy smirk curls on his mouth. “Let me show you how much I like it.”

_ Oh. _ Sonny’s brain malfunctions in the time it takes to drag him to the couch, and Rafael pushes him down onto the cushions to straddle him. He has to look up into hazy eyes brimming with lust, captured instantly by the dusty look and letting himself fall into the shining pair of jade green, and it’s nothing but a perfect view. Rafael's lips part for one last smirk, and when he dives down and captures his mouth, Sonny can only hope he doesn’t come in his pants again.


	2. Fifteen Minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Kneel.”
> 
> Sonny gets down on his knees, leaning back on his haunches for now, and Rafael grabs the back of his head. The taut fist clenched around his hair, keeping him in place and reminding him of the activities they’re about to partake in, makes his stomach churns. Having his hair pulled was one of the easiest ways to please him, but Sonny knows he isn’t supposed to receive pleasure from it. With a gulp of air and a bite of his cheek, he steadies himself and reigns in any reaction that itches at his throat.
> 
> “Here’s my plan.” Rafael keeps his voice level, not too loud and definitely without a waiver of any weakness that might show. “I would like to take as much of you as I can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how many days I spent on this chapter. I could look, but I only know I'm gonna be disappointed, because it's 11k of Sonny getting dominated by Rafael. Oof what a chapter
> 
> Anyway here's Wonderwall

Friday morning comes, and Sonny can already sense the direction the day is heading in. Rafael commands the room for his speech at the conference, strolling in front of a projector displaying statistics and flaunting in a navy blue suit. The lilac shirt with a matching pocket square and the mauve tie with tiny white flowers accent his personality like a peacock’s feathers. Each step oozes with confidence, each gesture a statement of how sure he is of himself. Sonny is enraptured with him the entire time he’s speaking, to the point of losing himself in a daydream of the events they have scheduled for the afternoon. The applause startles him, and he has to pinch himself to stand and slide out of the crowd to meet up with Rafael.

The panel is just as distracting. The other members are meaningless to him; he couldn’t even remember their faces if they were standing in front of him. He only has eyes for Rafael, ogling the curve of his shoulders and short slope of his nose, the way his hands fiddle with a pen or paper when he goes on a tangent, the daring twinkle in his eye when someone presents a challenge. Rafael Barba doesn’t back away from challenges. He makes them, or he conquers them.

Sonny wants both. He wants to be a challenge, and he wants Rafael to conquer him.

It occurs to him, while he waits in the space outside of the large ballroom, just how much he wants Rafael. Not in the typical want, due to their months-long affair (that’s a given at this point), but the one they discussed earlier that week: the one where Sonny takes what Rafael gives him and Rafael conducts him like a cello to a bow. He’ll follow orders so well that Rafael will have no choice but to reward him.

God. Any more intruding thoughts like that and he’ll embarrass both of them.

During the social, Rafael stays close to him but never actually says anything. He has to sense his impatience, with the way he steals a glance or raises a brow at him and smiles past a sip of mediocre punch. But then he turns to someone else, another lawyer from some city in Colorado who wants to hear more about whatever the panel was about, and he ducks behind a veil from Sonny’s detective senses. He doesn’t know if Rafael is kidding as another part of their interactions or if he’s teasing him as preparation for later. Not knowing the difference is painful.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Rafael asks once they get a break. Usually, he wouldn’t mind the bombardment of talking points, but Rafael is forced to spare attention to anyone that’s not him, and it hurts.

Sonny nods, not fully committed to the motion but unwilling to explain himself. The food is fine, the punch could be better, and Rafael’s ass in those pants is the only thing he can focus on. Anything else is lost to him.

Rafael leans in close, and the heat of his breath against his ear drags down his spine and pools in his gut. These words he can hear loud and clear, past a beating heart that wants nothing more than to pounce out of his chest and lay at Barba’s feet. “Give me fifteen more minutes of playing nice and then we can head back to your place so I can handle you properly. Can you do that? Can you show me how patient you are?”

Oh. The urgent need to fulfill the request, while proving how good he can be, nearly chokes him. The only thing going through his head is a mantra—_be a good boy, be a good boy, be a good boy_—and the roaring rush of his own blood. His pants are a bit tighter than they were that morning. “Yes, Counselor.”

Rafael sighs through his nose at the title used to address him, and he rewards Sonny with a touch to his lower back. It’s the best he’ll have, for now, and he relishes the press of his palm, the curve and flex of his fingers, the pad of his fingers lingering as he pulls away. The reminder of the touch burns through his suit, past his vest, over his shirt and landing pleasantly on his skin. If they were alone, he would curl into it, maybe beg for more. Right now, in a room full of attorneys, he has no choice but to wait.

Fifteen minutes is a long time. But if he wants to prove how good he is, it’ll be nothing.

* * *

Sonny fiddles with his keys when they get off the elevator. No words, no explanation, just a soundless dig from his suit pocket and a patient look from the man beside him. Since they left the conference center, Rafael had kept any contact with him minimal from the taxi to his building. Sonny has been burning for a touch—anything, at this point—ever since he was given fifteen minutes. And every chance he steals to lean forward and infiltrate his space, Rafael dips away and keeps them distant.

They reach his floor. Sonny fumbles for the right key, and he tries the first one he can get his fingers around. He tries to put the key in the lock but it doesn’t fit, so he fumbles for the next one. There are only four keys on the ring, how can this be so difficult?

Rafael presses against him, the first form of contact he’s allowed since the fifteen minutes began, and he wraps his arms around his hips. Sonny bites on a groan and leans his head back as they finally connect. He misses the lock in his attempt to fit the key in, but unlocking the door is the last thing on his mind. All he wants—all he needs right now—is for the man behind him to never stop.

“Rafael,” he breathes out, his hips shifting back. Rafael stops his movement, and then he’s moving away, putting a cold space between them and removing his arms. Sonny starts to look over his shoulder, a question already on his lips, but he’s turned around and held against the door before he can respond. Rafael has him pinned, fingers digging into his elbows and his lips curved in a pointed grin. The aura he radiates is purely authoritative. His tone, rich and smooth, is equally firm.

“Not today,” he murmurs. He raises a finger and puts it over Sonny’s lips. “From now until I come, you are to refer to me as ‘Counselor’ and nothing else. If you disobey me, I will stop.” His expression relaxes, the facade dropping, and he returns to a lover Sonny is more familiar with. His grip softens along with the lust in his eyes. “But if this is too much, you can back out now. I won’t hold it against you.”

“I want this.” Sonny takes the brief break in the submissive setting to smile and nod affirmatively. “This isn’t too much for me.”

Rafael, who is nothing if not thorough, raises a hand to brush his fingers along his temple. “Do you want me to dominate you?”

“Yes.” Without a doubt. With only a brief check for his own well-being. He wants to submit to his partner—_bed _ partner, not romantic—with the utmost trust and faith that he will be taken care of.

Rafael smiles and kisses him in response. Sonny grabs his shoulders to hold him close while he can, nibbling on his lower lip when they part. Rafael’s reaction is immediate: he turns him around and digs his hands into his hips, blunt nails seeming to glide through his pants to hold him. Sonny has to prop himself up on the door or else fall against the dark wood.

“Now then,” he whispers in his ear. Sonny shudders under the breath of hot air blown against his skin and listens for the husky tone. “Open the door and get us inside.”

Sonny scrambles again for his keys and tries one in the lock. No turn. He pulls it out, pausing when sly fingers slip around his belt buckle and undo it with a flick, and goes to the next. He should know his own keyring, he should recognize his apartment key, but his mind is so muddled with the hands running over his sides and trying to relish in the contact before it leaves him, the last thing he’s focused on is getting inside. Thankfully, he finally stumbles on the right key and successfully unlocks the door, pushing against it with his shoulder and stumbling inside. Rafael chuckles as he nudges him past the threshold and shuts the door. “Good job,” he congratulates him, his voice containing a pinch of praise. It’s just enough to tease him and fill his gut with pride. “You performed a basic function.”

Well. That sounds more pretentious when he says it like that, but Sonny doesn’t respond—he has to prove he’s a good boy, and good boys don’t talk back. He stands up straight and tosses the keys on the table by the door. Rafael removes his jacket and hangs it on the rack coat screwed into the wall. From the way he stands and makes no further move to undress, his jacket looks like the only thing he’ll take off for now. Sonny’s body heats up at the thought, especially when he pairs it with the realization that he’ll be the one stripped bare. He can’t remember a time where one of them was fully clothed to contrast with the other, but he anticipates what the new element will provide.

Rafael crosses his arms and looks him over. His gaze is searing, leaving small flaming glances up his body as he goes. Sonny tries not to wiggle from the attention but ultimately fails, shifting from each foot and gnawing on his lip.

“Strip.”

“Yes, Counselor,” Sonny says. He utters the response without thinking, his mind jumping to a mode of pleasing the second Rafael opened his mouth. He tears off his jacket and discards it behind him. His tie and vest follow after it, but his fingers trip over themselves to remove the clothing.

“So careless.” It’s pronounced with some shame, Rafael walking around him to his backside and out of his line of sight. Sonny stays still and, thankfully, is able to tear his shirt off without having to struggle with the idea of being watched. As soon as his shirt’s on the floor with everything else, he takes his pants off and stumbles immediately on his shoes. Rafael has to grab his hips to help him stay upright. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Sorry.” Sonny kicks his shoes off so he can remove the rest of his clothes, slipping his pants and underwear off in one fell swoop. He stays bent over to relish in the hands pressed against his sides. Even if it earns him a firm pinch on the cheeks, he doesn’t regret his hesitation to stand up straight again.

“Stand up. I want to see you.” Rafael moves away, causing a small whine to slip out of Sonny’s throat before he realizes he’s making a sound, and strolls in front of him. His sleeves are now rolled up neatly to his elbows, his arms crossed in front of his chest, and his glare is somehow more disapproving of the sight before him than he was earlier. Sonny, starkly nude and with nowhere to hide, merely watches him. They’re still standing by the front door, which provides no option for him to hide himself. He might as well be standing in the middle of an open field, with the fierce stare coming from green eyes.

Rafael grabs his shoulders, the first real form of contact since they entered the apartment, and this time Sonny stops himself from shivering. His palm is warm, but the taut fingers that scrape along the muscle make his toes curl. As long as the reaction goes unnoticed. Rafael stares at him for a moment in silence, and then drops his hand and pushes past him. He beckons Sonny to follow without looking back, the wave of his hand effortless and precise. Sonny pads after him quietly and stands in front of Rafael when he sits down in the armchair.

“Kneel.”

Sonny gets down on his knees, leaning back on his haunches for now, and Rafael grabs the back of his head. The taut fist clenched around his hair, keeping him in place and reminding him of the activities they’re about to partake in, makes his stomach churns. Having his hair pulled was one of the easiest ways to please him, but Sonny knows he isn’t supposed to receive pleasure from it. With a gulp of air and a bite of his cheek, he steadies himself and reigns in any reaction that itches at his throat.

“Here’s my plan.” Rafael keeps his voice level, not too loud and definitely without a waiver of any weakness that might show. “I would like to take as much of you as I can. Both orally and anally. You will suck my dick until I’m satisfied and if you’ve earned it, I will fuck you. You will not come until I give you permission. And it definitely won’t be until I come.”

He swallows and nods, his eyes fluttering shut. His dick has been half-hard since they got off the elevator, but the heated words flood over and soothe him. For a moment, the heat between his legs subsides to listen to the boundaries they have set up. “Okay.”

The hand at his nape reels back to yank on his hair; a gasp is practically ripped out of him and breaks the tense air. “Be patient. I’m not done.”

“I’m sorry, Counselor.” Sonny gulps and shuts his eyes, but a hand on his chin convinces him to open them again. Rafael is smiling, however small it may be, however temporary it will actually stay in place, and his eyes are shining. Anything he wants, Sonny is willing to hand it all over.

“I will not do anything you do not want to do. So if you want me to stop, or if you rather I don’t do something, you tell me.” His lips twist into a smirk, a perfect match to the coy insinuations in his next sentence. “Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?” Sonny starts to nod, but the hand in his hair tugs again, harder than before. “Verbal affirmation, please.”

“Yes.” He gasps out his answer, his words soaked in the burning lust inside him. He wants everything Rafael has to offer him, every touch and shape and inch. Just saying the words clenches his gut and flares his cock to full hardness. “Yes. I understand.”

“Thank you.” The hand holding his chin drops, and the lithe fingers in his hair let the strands go and run up the back of his head. The last few tresses fall between his fingers when Rafael leans back and shifts his hips forward, framing Sonny between spread legs. “Get to work then.”

Sonny sits up and, with a single glance upward, presses his palms against his clothed thighs; as if sensing his approval-seeking hesitance, Rafael waves him onward. One arm is propped up on the armrest, tucked under his chin in mild disinterest and expectation. This is his opportunity to prove himself to Rafael, to give himself up to the motions of intimacy and the confines of their relationship. They already worked well together, and sharing a bed was just as dynamic, if not more so. At this moment, Sonny wants to do all he can to prove himself and show how good he can be.

He starts by unbuttoning and unzipping Rafael’s trousers. His hands are confident as he sets aside his underwear and pulls out his cock, already fully hard and dripping impatiently. A hand lodges atop his head immediately without squeezing any strands; even without the clench, Sonny still chokes on the breath he tries to let out.

“I like these pants,” Rafael warns. “Don’t stain them.”

With a steadying gulp, Sonny looks up at him. “It’s not my fault you’re leaking.” The grasp suddenly tightens around a fistful of hair and pulls, and Sonny _whimpers _at the pressure. A stern face, unhappy with his words, leans into his line of sight.

“It _ is _ your fault.” He isn’t looking at him, but he can hear the disappointed scowl in Rafael’s voice. “Every time I look at you, I can’t help but think how good it feels to kiss you. How good it is to hold you close and take you. Run my hands over every inch of your skin.” He demonstrates his point by dragging his hand from Sonny’s hair to his neck, over his chest, pausing to thumb his nipple, and sliding down to clench his waist. It shouldn’t be something he enjoys when his hands are definitely meant to make a point, but that only makes him like it more. “Don’t you get it? You’re the only reason I’m like this.”

Sonny swallows roughly, shifting on his knees and leaning closer to him. The words—the subtle praises—send a pleasant warmth sliding down his chest and to his cock when his actions—the hands over his skin—avoid indulging him. It could be the closest thing he’ll have to Rafael revealing his feelings to him, tonight or otherwise, so he relishes the moment before he decides to speak. He wets his lips and straightens up nicely, hope sprouting in his chest that he can get himself back in his good graces. “I’m sorry, Counselor. Forgive me.”

Rafael pulls away and sits back in his chair. “I’ll think about it. But you’ll have to impress me first. I can’t just give myself away without anything in return.”

“I’ll impress you, Counselor, I promise. Let me prove myself.” The words are not stated as much as they pour out of him. Sonny barely thinks twice about the words he recites; he wants to spew out every thought he has to show Rafael how much he wants to make it up to him. If he can get even an inkling of support, he can be alright. “Please.”

“I said I’ll think about it.” Rafael’s tone stays indifferent. If his goal is to appear detached so he can get a rise out of him and spur him on, Sonny would consider it a success. His throbbing arousal and a determination that hardens at the base of his spine are certainly proof of that. He has zeroed in on pleasuring the man in front of him and nothing else. Rafael nods to his lap, where his cock still stands, erect and equally impatient. “Now suck.”

Sonny licks his lips, swallows in preparation, and leans forward. He grabs Rafael by the base of his cock to steady and hold it in place while he connects the inflamed head to his tongue. Sonny considers himself the best at oral out of any type of sexual act that he’s participated in. He knows the best way to use his mouth, whether he’s wrapping his lips around something or plunging his tongue forward. And he uses as much of his mouth as he can, from tongue to cheek to the outskirts of his throat, if he’s warmed up enough. It’s earned many a comment of using his mouth for more than pointless babbling. That has to be why Rafael wants him on his knees before they do anything else.

Rafael has been his bed partner—because there truly is no better description of their personal relationship—with him long enough for Sonny to know exactly how he prefers his blow jobs. Sonny closes his lips around him, his lower lip hovering just below the glans. Precome seeps onto his tongue and slides over his taste buds with a bitter sensation. He focuses on breathing through his nose and guiding the head against the inside of his cheek to distract from the taste. The only sound is a grunt of approval, and Rafael pats his head and spreads his legs to give him more room.

Sonny takes in more of Rafael, gradually sinking down over his dick. The head presses into his tongue while he progresses over the shaft. A mild twitch in his thigh catches Sonny’s eye, but he has to ignore it. If he were given any other order besides “suck,” he would soothe the reaction with gentle strokes of his hand, maybe a soft peck, definitely a warm smile and promises to please him. More than he already has. Instead, and in a way to make up for his inability to typically satisfy, Sonny lets his thumb slip from the base and rests it on his scrotum. If there’s any protest, it doesn’t come—Rafael sighs, a bit of a tremble sneaking up at the end, and Sonny views it as a sign. He bobs his head and sucks his cheeks in to drag his mouth over his cock when he pulls back to breathe.

For a brief second, Sonny debates toying with the shaft, a quick run of his hand up and down, but he stops himself. He could get away with a feather-like press on his scrotum, but teasing is not what Rafael requested. That was his job.

With one last gulp of air, Sonny dives forward and engulfs him in the same tight space that he had left. A grunt escapes from Rafael as he shifts his leg, the most he’s revealed since Sonny sank to his knees. The urge to look at the lawyer takes over him, and Sonny glances up at him only to immediately regret raising his eyes. Rafael’s face is mesmerizing, his lips open and panting, and his eyes are glazed over with lust. The olive tone of his eyes shines in the dim sunlight coming through the drapes as the lightest flush of scarlet dusts over his cheeks. The sight is nothing more than satisfying.

Sonny’s free hand falls to his lap and clutches his knee in a death grip to stop himself from reaching for any other part of Rafael. He did not have permission to touch him outside of the space between his legs, and he certainly wasn’t going to assume that he had jurisdiction in any other area. His other hand keeps a firm hold at the base of Rafael’s dick, his thumb sliding off of his balls for the moment, as a reminder that this is all he has right now. A mouth that knows what to do when he sits on his knees and a hand that knows when and where to touch. Sonny slides the ring of his fingers up to meet his lips when he moves down. His short, quick movements glide down and guide his lips until there’s half a dick in his mouth.

“You’re doing great,” Rafael sighs. Both hands have fallen to the armrests, curling around them to steady himself and digging into the wood. Sonny shivers and hums in response, eliciting a similar reaction above him. “Fuck.”

He moves back down, a bit further than before, and sucks his cheeks together again. This time, Rafael lets out a shout, his legs closing around him. His knees knock against his shoulders in a silent push forward. Sonny sinks down just a bit more and extracts heavy pants from above him when he rubs the head against the walls of the taut cavern he formed with his mouth. The suction of his cheeks clutches onto his cock as Sonny removes his mouth and laps his tongue around the head. The motion of the wet muscle and the stimulation of the highly sensitive area bring another cry and a shudder that runs through Rafael’s body.

Sonny pulls back to lick his lips and give his throat a break. He connects puckered lips to the half of his shaft that he hasn’t reached yet, and the mumbled “yes” that hops past Rafael’s lips provides the encouragement to drag the flat of his tongue up to the head. When he reaches the tip again, he kisses it in a way that avoids inserting it back into his mouth but applies just enough contact to pleasure Rafael. A bit of precome falls on Sonny’s upper lip, which he takes as a positive sign that what he was doing was hitting all the right nerves in the other man. He moves back to look up and show off the streak of white clinging to his lip.

Rafael looks down when he stops and smiles at the sight, satisfied and amused. “Well. You should clean that up.”

“Should I lick it or wipe it off?”

The shiver does not go unnoticed. Rafael laughs, a breathless sound, and shuts his eyes. “Lick it.”

“Thank you, Counselor.” Sonny sticks his tongue out and slowly runs it over his upper lip. He starts in the middle, right above the point of his Cupid’s bow, and slides along his upper lip until he reaches the corner. Rafael swallows audibly at the first swipe. The salty taste of his come isn’t as bothersome, Sonny decides, if he gets to cause reactions like that: wide-eyed, curled hands, a breath that’s equal parts heavy from arousal and livid at the taunt. He removes the remainder of the spurt with a flick of his tongue, though he hesitates when he gets to his cheek and drags the underside of his tongue across his lower lip. “Did I get it all?”

Rafael manages a shaky nod. He hums a soft “mhm” in affirmation, but judging from the glazed look, he might not be aware of the sound he’s made. Sonny just smiles at him and returns to mouthing at the base of his cock. By now, Rafael’s cock is shining from the layer of spit coating it, and a swell of pride fills Sonny’s gut. He did that, no one else did; he is the one responsible for every reaction out of Rafael. And the thought that no one else is able to do that makes him a little proud.

Sonny takes a moment to admire his work, still stimulating the dick in front of him with the hot puffs of air he releases, and then he dives back in, taking in more of his cock than before. He still holds it in place with a ring formed by his fingers to block off the parts he wants to ease into, and he relaxes his throat in preparation for the deep dive he’s preparing. He wants to take Rafael up to the hilt and hold him there, let him convulse and twitch around his throat from the pressure surrounding him. Rafael is the one giving out orders, but Sonny has just as much power, and he wants to relish in that thought.

“Slurp.”

Sonny considers his blowjobs an art form, an act built around pleasure and ecstasy, that contain the poise of a monarch and the sensation of an experienced sex worker. Slurping creates both a noise and a sensation that he does not typically use. If anything, it is something done by request, and once he thinks about it, he’s not surprised to hear the demand come from Rafael. Sonny wants to please, and if Rafael wants him to slurp, he’s going to deliver.

The first slurp he makes is a weak one, but the second is definitely lewd. He makes a show of working his cheeks over Rafael, stretching him against the fleshy chamber of his mouth and coating his dick in just as much saliva as it’s already covered in. When he leans forward to take in more, dragging the ring of his hand further down Rafael’s shaft, he presses his thumb on his cheek to show off the protrusion of his dick. Paired with the sounds of his suckling, Sonny gets a reaction he enjoys: Rafael grunting and rolling his head back, the tip of his cock leaking a generous amount of precome at the contact, a shudder that wracks through his entire body. Sonny chuckles quietly at the reaction before he can think about it. A hand gently tangles through his hair, not gripping but definitely appreciating.

“Good boy. You’re doing such a good job, Sonny.”

As if the touch to his head wasn’t enough. The words are pure icing to the warm spindles in his heart, and he has to dig his thumb into his hand to control himself. With one last pull up for air, Sonny lets out a deep breath and takes Rafael to the base. He relaxes his throat when the head nudges as far as he can take it, and he swallows around it with a wet slurping sound. The yell from the man above him wasn’t expected, but he’s at least glad he could get a reaction like that from him amidst heavy pants and rolling groans. It only takes two gulps—two sloppy, loud gulps from a full mouth—for Rafael to grab him on either side of his head and rip him off. Sonny is left gasping and desperate, a mixture of saliva and come hanging on his chin, and he spares a glance up.

Rafael is smiling, lips parted softly and eyes overflowing with admiration. The sight solidifies Sonny immediately; his arousal is heavy between his legs, and he’s probably leaked as much as Rafael, but his breathing is steadier. “You’ve done so well. A little too well.” He tucks himself back in, hissing when the top of his hand brushes against the shining and spit-stained head, and takes Sonny’s hands as he stands. The slight tremble in his legs is not unnoticeable; Sonny relishes in the realization that he was the cause of that. “I was about to come.”

“That’s usually a good thing,” Sonny points out. The sound of his voice is rough and pleasantly scratchy.

“Yeah, when I don’t have other plans.” Rafael kisses his forehead; the previous hardness in his expression softens when he leans back. “You were very good, Sonny.

He gulps down a shaky breath and bows his head. God, if the only thing he ever heard was Rafael’s praise, he would be a weak man. “Thank you.”

Rafael caresses his cheek. “Can I reward you? I think you’ve proven yourself enough to get a reward from me.”

“Please.” Sonny shuts his eyes and tries his best to reign in his imagination. Since he was given fifteen minutes for Rafael to get done socializing, he has ached for the other man to drive his cock into him and wreck him. He wants to feel Rafael in his throat and his ass for the next week. “I need this.”

“I know you do.” Rafael leads him to the couch and sits him down. “Take a moment to calm down. I need some supplies.”

Sonny nods fervently. “Okay. Thank you, Counselor.” That title is definitely ruined for them. By the time they’re done, he isn’t going to be able to use that word without being reminded of this day.

Rafael gives him one last smile and a lingering touch on his shoulder before he steps away and heads to the bedroom. His stride across the room to the hallway is confident like he’s lived in this apartment for years instead of the nights he’s spent for sexual purposes, and Sonny has to bow his head to stop himself from staring. It’s overwhelming to imagine Rafael in his space in a way that is anything but sexual: sharing his shampoo, cooking dinner for two in his kitchen, wearing his t-shirts to the point of not knowing what’s his and what’s Sonny’s.

In a practical sense, if they were in an exclusive relationship, it would be easier to move into a new space together, somewhere that could be theirs, but there’s a yearning feeling that remains, an aftereffect of Rafael sharing a space with him. In an alternate timeline, maybe they could relish in that life: coming home to one another, hugging each other from behind with a lazy smile, sharing a bed and pressed so close together, there’s almost no need for a blanket to keep them warm.

He has to be drunk on something if he’s going to start thinking shit like that, or he’s just a delusional fool. Sonny hangs his head between his legs and digs his nails into the base of his skull. That wasn’t fair to Rafael, a man who was so forward and blunt that he probably understood their personal relationship as nothing more than sexual, a complete opposite of Sonny’s daydreams. Whatever urge he holds to spend time with the lawyer in a setting that’s anything but their typical routine can wait until later, when he’s alone, preferably not hard or on the verge of climax.

Once he’s confident that he isn’t going to make a fool of himself, Sonny sits up and lets out a long sigh. He has to remember where he is—his living room, on the couch—and what is happening—it’s afternoon, Rafael is in his bedroom for supplies, hopefully—and he brings himself off the edge of climax. At least he can tame his orgasm back to avoid ending their session before it’s truly began, and with a rare version of Rafael to show for it.

Sonny leans into the couch and runs through the events that have taken place. It makes sense that Rafael would take charge dominantly without a flicker of doubt shown or a hair out of place. He doesn’t expect them to extend far into their temporary roles of dominance and submission since it’s the first time either of them has done anything like this with one another. But whatever does end up on the agenda will be suitable enough to plan for the next time they feel like trying something new. Whenever that day may come, whether it’s next week or next month, Sonny knows he’ll be ready for it.

Rafael comes out of the bedroom with a condom in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other. A small thrill runs up Sonny’s spine at the bulge in the front of his pants, accompanied by a surge of pride. He caused that, and he can only hope that he can add to it.

“How are your pants holding up?” Sonny asks once the older man is within arm’s reach.

“Still unstained, thank you,” Rafael teases softly, a smirk quirking up on his lips. He drops the condom and lube on the coffee table and pitches a knee between Sonny’s legs. When he kisses him, the desperate craving to taste and explore more warps his mind. His legs are weak against the cushions, and he easily bends backward when Rafael, molding their lips together and taking control with quick flicks of his tongue, pushes him back. Sonny reaches up to hold him close, the first contact he would have, but Rafael shoves them down and holds his arms against the cushions. “Not yet.”

Sonny huffs at the teasing quip and mischievous glint in Rafael’s eyes but doesn’t give a verbal protest. He lets Rafael take back control and guide him into a kneeling position on all fours. Each press of a hand is firm, not wasting any time directing him the way he wants, even when Sonny tries to bend in his direction. The only acknowledgment for his efforts is a small scoff and a pinch to his ass.

“That blowjob you gave was phenomenal.” Rafael remains standing, not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his clothes. If anything, he looks like he’s been working in his office all morning and just came out for a break. “One of your best, if I do say so myself.” He pauses, again, and Sonny wishes he would stop stalling and get to the point he wants to make. “But I want more from you. I want to see what the rest of your body can do.”

“Whatever you want—” He starts to say, but Rafael cuts him off with a harsh pull of his hair. Sonny doesn’t even try to hold back the grunt and satisfied sigh that leap out of him.

“You really need to stop talking when I’ve barely started.” He pulls his head back, just enough so that Sonny is craning his neck backward, baring his throat in the process, and Rafael’s grin is fucking sly. “If I was really impressed, I would have let you finish the job.” Still keeping his left hand between strands of dark blond and silvery gray, he runs his right hand down his cheek and over his chin. “Maybe let you swallow my come. Maybe make a mess of your pretty face.”

Sonny nearly replies again, but remembers his warning before he can get it out, and only nods for his response.

“But alas. I have more planned.” Rafael releases both his chin and his hair, and he moves away to grab the bottle of lube from the coffee table. “I’m going to finger you open. While I do, I want you to tell me what feels good.” He pauses—one hand has uncapped the lube, the other waits to pour out the slick and warm it on his fingers. Sonny knows it’s meant to test him, to see if he’ll forget to stay quiet, but he passes by staying silent and staring at him with anticipation. Rafael smiles, clearly content with the result, and Sonny nearly groans. “Then, if you’ve done enough, I’m going to fuck you.”

“Fuck.”

Rafael chuckles. A dollop of lubricant lands on his fingers. His knee sags into the sofa. “Exactly. I haven’t decided how hard or soft I want to be with you. I guess we’ll have to see how well you do. But,” Rafael moves his knee away, creates a cold distance between them by stepping back and eyeing him critically, “if you want to stop, I can and I will.”

Sonny shakes his head, swallowing around the lump in his throat, his heart throbbing for this amazing man. So kind, for all his armor; so thoughtful, for all his attempts to prove there was an empty hole in his chest. “No. I want this. I want you so much, Rafael.”

The use of his name must be enough to convince him that he is comfortable, judging by the knuckles that brush against his back and the tenderness of his voice. “I can’t tell you what it means to me to know that you trust me.” Rafael climbs behind Sonny, kneeling behind him on the couch, and he gently nudges his legs apart. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, Counselor.” Sonny nods and gives an encouraging wave of his hips in Rafael’s direction. “I need this, so much, god—” One finger presses against his entrance, cutting his words off in his throat. It’s the first form of sexual contact he has, and he drinks it all in—the length of his finger pressing into his skin, the tip breaking through and nudging inside, the steady breathing that comes from behind. Sonny gasps under his breath and shuts his eyes. “Feels good. Shit.”

Rafael drops the bottle of lube and runs his free hand over the smooth plane of his back. “You’re tight today.” He pushes his finger in until the first two joints are inside him, and his free hand drags lightly across his back. Sonny reacts to the flex of the digit with a grunt, shivering at the raised skin on his back. “Are you holding back anything?”

“N-no.” The words are shoved out, pushed by his tongue and the carnal urge to shoo away any and all doubt. Sonny sighs and hangs his head. “I promise, I’m not.”

“Hmm.” He pushes his finger in further until he’s a knuckle deep. The pressure of the prodding digit and the small wiggle it gives to his walls brings Sonny to his elbows, his hands and arms trembling from the effort of holding his upper body up. “How does it feel for you?”

Sonny peers at him from under his arm, unable to lift his head up and properly look at the other man. He can’t possibly expect him to say anything sensible, can he? “Wha, what d’you want, my plot synopsis?”

“Something like that.”

“God, you’re ridiculous.”

Rafael starts to move his finger back and forth, easing forward with a gentle sway, flush against his ass, and withdrawing with a scrape against his inner walls. “If you want something from me, you should just say it. You don’t have to tarnish your ‘good boy’ reputation with an attitude like that.”

Sonny shuffles his legs to ease the pressure in his knees, but he stops when the movement brings the tip of Rafael’s finger lingering at the inside of his entrance. The two words that have been haunting him since they began—_good boy, be a good boy_—ring in his ears when a voice like that pronounces them. “I just want you.”

“When you’re ready. We just started, Sonny.” Rafael pushes his finger back in as he leans over to bite the shell of Sonny’s ear and whisper, low and sultry, “And I don’t think you’ve provided much of anything. Didn’t I ask for your opinion?”

With his body so close, Sonny tosses his head back onto Rafael’s shoulder and groans. “You seriously think I can say anything when you’re doing this?”

“Amuse me. I think you can do it.”

“Oh, Sonny. Don’t sound so offended.” The finger pulls out, teeth dig into the back of his neck, and his cock hangs and drips white spots below him. “Are you upset I haven’t paid enough attention to you? That I’ve only taken and haven’t given anything?”

The finger drives inside, reaching deeper, swirling around, meeting the teasing words without missing a beat. “S-sure. Whatever will get you to touch me. Yes.” The tease of a second finger traces over his entrance but stays out. Another digit—a thumb—runs along his scrotum, and he bites down a scream. “Raf—”

“Who?”

Sonny grunts with dissatisfaction. If he was going to be coy, then there was nothing stopping him from doing the same. “Counselor.”

“Ah.” The second digit nudges inside him, sitting just at the edge of his ass, this time getting a buck forward from Sonny. “I thought there was someone else you were talking to.”

“Nope. Just you.” A deep flush sneaks up his neck and coils in his cheeks, causing them to flare and burn at his next thought. “You’re the only one who can make me feel like this.”

Rafael chuckles at that. “How sweet. I wish you’d prove it a little more. I’m a little disappointed with your show.” When he leans over to nibble at his ear, Sonny can feel his finger prod deeper inside him. “I asked you to tell me how this feels, didn’t I?”

“Maybe I need some encouragement.” He glances over his shoulder, and the interested shimmer in Rafael’s eyes is unmistakable, clearly hooked and standing on the same wavelength. “Just a little reminder of what you can do.”

Rafael had withdrawn his finger during his bargain, but the pressure stays against his entrance. The soft pad of his fingertip rolls soft circles into his skin, right on the edge of his hole. A chill hits Sonny’s spine at the blow of hot air that brushes against his ear. “I think I can indulge that request.” He pauses, humming quietly to himself. Sonny can feel the eyes roving over his bare ass, but the soft hand, free of lube, that touches his cheek drags the air out of his lungs. “How about I pleasure your ass? Pinch it,” he pulls at the skin close to the center of his left cheek, “maybe smack it,” the contact is more like a tap with his palm that makes his skin ripple in reaction, “or anything. I’m open to suggestions.”

Once again, Sonny is floored by the amount of appreciation and admiration for this man. Rafael pulls the hand preparing him back and away from his skin in expectation of his answer. He keeps the same dominant aura when he shoots off his suggestions, but the second it comes down to Sonny’s choice or an opportunity to back out, he removes himself as much as he can. No contact, no coercion, nothing that would take away Sonny’s ability to say no. How he was able to snag such a polite and attentive partner, he couldn’t fathom.

Sonny turns his head so that he can properly look Rafael in the eyes to deliver his response. “How’s ‘all of the above’ for an answer?”

Rafael nods, a lazy smile turning on his lips, and resumes stretching his asshole by easing his finger back into him with a swift push and a warm kiss to his neck. His other hand runs over his ass, massaging the muscle and kneading the surface like a pleased cat. Sonny sighs and arches his back at the attention. Through the mist of pleasure that burns across his skin on every bare inch of his body, he can register a soft accompaniment of words that only further validate his feelings about the other man.

“If this was what you wanted, Sonny, all you had to do was ask,” he says. His hand dips down to his thigh to drag his nails up over his cheek. “All your sass for something I would have done anyway.”

Sonny chuckles and hangs his head. The second finger rests against his ass, meeting the first when it eases out for a moment, but it still doesn’t completely enter. He rolls his hips to show off his rear, maybe tease him or entice him to touch and take more. Confirm that Sonny wants to be touched as much as Rafael wants to touch him. “I learned from the best.”

“So this is my fault?”

“Those are your words, not m_ah_!”

The smack isn’t loud, but the tingle of Rafael’s palm covers his right cheek and coincides almost perfectly with the addition—finally—of a second finger. Sonny bites his lip at the arousal that floods his gut at the added pressure. His cheeks are flaming at how nice it feels, the sting pleasing to already blazed skin and complimenting the arousal that hangs between his legs, untouched and barely acknowledged.

“I think we can share the blame,” Rafael muses and adds another strike, this time to his other cheek. Sonny melts at the contact and throws his head back. His moan is sultry, an erotic melody of sound from deep within his throat that drips out sweet and warm. There’s an approving fit of laughter from above, accompanied by a scratch at the base of his spine, and the fingers inside him spread. They sit knuckle-deep inside him, adding more pressure to his surrounding walls in preparation, just a few inches shy of his prostate. The thought of having Rafael’s cock in him, filling him and drowning him, makes his stomach flip.

They continue the motions for a moment longer: for every thrust of fingers in or out of Sonny, Rafael lays a hand across his ass. Some of the hits are soft, just scuffing his palm across the arc of a cheek, but others are stinging and fast, almost always followed by a jolt from Sonny and a rolling cry from his throat that sounds like thunder. It isn’t so much the feeling he can steal from a twinge of pain that makes it enjoyable, but the fact that Rafael has maintained control over the situation with Sonny’s input and without trampling his wants with his own. It’s all so dizzying, Sonny isn’t sure how his legs have stayed up. His knees will definitely hurt later.

The fingers scissor apart when a firm pinch lands on his ass, and his legs quake from the combination. His cock twitches in a silent request for contact that is taking its time to reach around him. Rafael stays quiet during his teasing; all silent breath and concentrated work on the task at hand. The only indication that he’s even present, let alone paying attention, is the sharp bites of his hands. His nails are slim teeth that nip together and pull his skin, trailing down from the small of his back to his upper thighs. His left hand is nuzzled within Sonny’s ass and rubbing as much slick around as he can, all while prodding the outer edge of his prostate and readying him for their next step. His right hand has enjoyed tormenting every inch of his rear: pinches, smacks, scratches, all a sharp river of pleasure that courses over him. Each is met with a gasp that tumbles from Sonny’s lips, a cry that trembles, a keen that bucks and pleads for more. The fire brewing under his skin is just starting to get fed.

“You make such wonderful sounds,” Rafael points out softly. He pulls his hand back and eases out a pinch with the other before he smooths the skin down. The praise of the words and the pride oozing from his voice make Sonny prick up with interest. “So loud, too. But I do enjoy your reactions. Do you like when I tease you?” He nods eagerly, and Rafael coos at him. “You can bear a little more, right? Just until I finish prepping you.”

“Yeah.” Sonny sounds thoroughly wrecked, even to his own ears. His throat is tied between running dry and dripping wet noises every time Rafael’s hand so much as hovers over him.

“I’ve teased you enough, I would say.”

“Uh-huh.” The fingers slip in to the knuckle. He flexes instinctively when a palm rolls over his left ass cheek and slaps it with its fingertips. Sonny feels the cry he lets out, tugging at his throat, and tosses his head back.

Rafael pulls his fingers out. He applies a bit more lube and pushes them in, this time with a third finger, and massages his prostate directly. White explodes behind Sonny’s eyes, and he’s lucky he curls his toes and steals himself in time to stop his orgasm from rolling through him. He is desperately hanging onto the edge of this ride—he _must _be a good boy—and he doesn’t know if he’ll break before he’s given the chance to come.

“One thing’s for sure,” Rafael says, and he leans forward to whisper, “you’ve done a beautiful job. Such a good boy.”

Sonny opens his mouth but nothing comes out. Just a wheezing gasp fused into a whine that deflates when the three fingers spread and prod before retracting. The last few seconds are a blur—activity, for sure, but most importantly, the repeated thought in his head that Rafael approves of this, approves of him, approves of letting him tumble apart like a loose string dangling from a sweater. One pull and he falls apart.

He is a good boy. He satisfied Rafael enough for a reward. With his sounds, his show, his body, his time. Rafael thinks—sees—that he is the good boy he had claimed to be. He has proven himself, like he knew he would, like _Rafael _knew. He always knew. He wouldn’t have done any of this if he hadn’t.

“Are you alright?” The soft voice cuts through his thoughts, runs up his shoulders, sags against his back. “You went a bit quiet there.”

Sonny licks his lips, lets out a breath, and then nods. “Yes,” he confirms. “I’m fine. Just got a bit distracted.”

The relieved smirk radiates his content at the positive answer. “I was going to say, if you thought I had done that good of a job, it was only half of it.”

He chuckles; he reminds himself to kiss Rafael for the mildly cocky comment later. “I hope you’re not posturing, Counselor.”

His hands are removed from his ass, the warm presence and brush of fabric disappear momentarily, and a wrapper lands on the small of his back. Sonny can tell from the sound that finally, after waiting like a good boy—he _is _a good boy, after all—and performing so well, he can find the release he so desperately needs. Rafael has to be as thirsty for completion as he is.

“You’ve done well, Sonny,” Rafael states. He presents the statement as a fact, something proven and confirmed, and Sonny’s gut flips. The sound of a condom being rolled on is replaced with the light squirt of lube and a sensitive hiss. “And I think it’s time for your real reward.”

“God, yes,” Sonny exhales. His hips cant backward before he can register the movement. The preparation has only pushed him further to the edge of orgasm, and he doubts he’ll be able to last until Rafael comes.

The older man grabs his hips with a laugh and holds him in place. “Don’t get too excited. I’m still in charge.” The rough husk of his voice gets closer as he settles his—still painfully clothed—thighs against Sonny’s bare skin and leans over him. “I want to ensure that you won’t fall apart the second I slide inside. You’re a good boy,” Rafael seals the praise with a kiss to the back of his neck, “but you need to learn some restraint.”

Sonny swallows and bucks into his grasp, but Rafael tightens his hold to stop him from moving far. “Joke’s on you. I like seeing you in charge.”

“That’s what you got out of that? Looks like I need to teach you more than I thought.” Rafael pulls his cheeks apart, holding onto the meat of his ass and exposing his entrance. Sonny has to grab a pillow in front of him to stop himself from falling over. He’s already been brought to his elbows and completely supported by his knees; he doesn’t need to be held up by the hold behind him alone.

The head of Rafael’s dick breaks through his entrance, and Sonny digs his teeth into the pillow when he bottoms out in one fell swoop and releases his ass. Rafael sighs in contentment and drags his hands over his back. Sonny takes a moment to relish in the appreciative touch, shifting his hips at the wide girth, and just when he thinks he’s adjusted, Rafael pulls out and picks up a brutal pace. His hips roll into him, barely brushing against Sonny’s bare thighs with how quickly he slams into him. The fact that it’s the only movement he makes, besides the occasional body appreciation led by a brush of his thumbs against quivering thighs, only makes it more erotic. Even his breathing is steady, soft puffs that match the staccato of his thighs. Rafael is nothing if not the perfect image of control and taking what he wants.

Sonny struggles to stay on his elbows but the pressure in his ass alone makes him drop. His chest becomes flush with the cushions, his arms struggling to keep hold of the pillow and stay connected. The only thing he’s capable of doing is gasp for air, unable to remember a steady rhythm or a time without this feeling. Rafael is only doing this—fucking him, from behind, at his pace and force—for himself. Not for Sonny. He has organized all of this, directed him what to do and where to put himself, and he took the end result. And somehow part of this is for him: Rafael is still going to take care of him, just like he did when he admired and stretched and spanked his ass. Rafael couldn’t exclude him, even if he wanted to. And Sonny will take whatever his bed partner wants to give him.

“So tight,” Rafael huffs. His hands will surely leave bruises behind, judging by how firm he clutches onto him. “Have you been waiting for me?”

Sonny knows he isn’t going to form words anytime soon. He just nods at the question and whines when the pace slows to an easy roll. Each throbbing move, each shift inside, teases the outer edge of his prostate. Rafael knew how to skirt around it when he was preparing him, and if he hits it now, things might end before they begin.

“You shouldn’t have, my dear. Who knows the next time I’ll be in here.” He digs his thumbs into Sonny’s ass and spreads him again. The choke of his breath is much louder to his ears at the pleasant burn that erupts in him. “Don’t starve yourself.”

With a hiss, Sonny’s hands fly to his pleading cock and grip the base to rein himself back. There was still more to go, more to fulfill, and he couldn’t disappoint. _Be a good boy. _ No coming until his partner was treated. He would not disobey orders.

Rafael chuckles, soft but deep. Even if Sonny wasn’t an open book, the older man could read his needs and wants so easily. And without a single word to spare. “Beautiful boy. You’re doing amazing. I’ve left you speechless, haven’t I?”

Sonny proves his point with a sharp gasp when a thrust connects with his prostate directly. He brings one hand away from the tightened hold around his dick and grips the pillow. This can’t last much longer, not when Rafael holds his position with a roll of his hips, not when his thighs quiver and his dick pulses, not when his breaths fall ragged and damp on the cushions below him.

“Maybe next time, I can just talk you through everything.” The tip of Rafael’s tie brushes against his back—he still hasn’t undressed, he probably looks like he hasn’t broken a sweat—when he bends over. His hips shift just enough to jostle Sonny forward and burrow his face into his pillow. “I’ll describe everything you’re doing, everything I’m feeling, every little touch.” The twist of a smile bleeds through his voice and onto his skin. “Would you like that?” Sonny nods, but Rafael shames him with a “tsk” and a kiss to his neck. “Use your words.”

“C’mon.” Sonny shuts his eyes in an attempt to stave off the drumming shock of feelings in his crotch. His breath has eluded him since Rafael entered him, and he doesn’t know how to get it back. “You know I can’t.”

Rafael stops in the middle of a thrust and pulls out completely, the head of his dick sitting on his ass. Sonny would have moved into it if the two hands on either side of him didn’t dig into his thighs. The yell that is torn out of his throat is released before he can reel it back, and the emptiness inside him, the clench of his ass at the absence, is startlingly vast. It’s the only thing that fills his mind and breaks the wall holding him back.

“God, fucking—please, I’ve been good!” He sucks in a harsh breath of air and keens in the back of his throat for attention. “I want you so bad, Counselor, c’mon, get back here.”

“I’m right here.”

Sonny shakes his head and bites back a laugh. “Don’t—don’t play games. I want you. Want you so much, I can’t even voice it. Just—” Rafael shifts behind him, and then the head of his dick breaks through his entrance. Sonny hangs his head, a babble of words flowing out of him. “Yeah, right there, all the way.”

Rafael repositions himself at his prostate and Sonny bucks back, rubbing along the nerves. The yell that slips out is short-lived when Rafael resumes the pace he had. His breathing is a bit more ragged than before but he still stays quiet, digging his fingertips into his thighs and using the hold to help move inside him. Sonny can barely gather a single thought in his mind, too scrambled from his plunging jerks. Each movement brings his slacks against his burning thighs and brushes right over the red marks on his ass. It’s intoxicating, it’s breathtaking, and Sonny is blown away by it all.

When they talked about having a night of sexual exploration, he could only imagine what this would be like. They agreed for one test night to see where the other was before they did anything else. And if the dick leaking between his legs and the one pounding into him is anything to judge, he would say their goal was accomplished.

Sonny clenches around Rafael, causing a slight stutter in his thrusts when he slides in completely. For a moment, he isn’t sure what’s happening, but Rafael grunts and shivers and squeezes his legs for leverage. The edge of his tie runs along Sonny’s back again, this time causing goosebumps to rise on his skin, and he can only guess he finally came. When Rafael pulls out, it’s with a thankful kiss to the lining of his spine and a forgiving grip that finally—god, finally, he’s been so good—brings some relief.

“You did so well,” Rafael whispers to him, sated and breathless, a voice low and rolling like thunder. When he finally grabs his dick, using the dripping precome to slick up, Sonny loses his breath. His thighs burn, his backside is pleasantly tender, and the only thought he can form is focused on Rafael. His voice, his touch, his presence that has moved off the couch and now kneels in front of him.

When he dips into view, Sonny barely registers it: he must look mad, mouth hung open, spit aligning his chin and lips, eyes blown wide and driven to the edge, waiting for the last push to bring him down. Rafael is lucky to have eyes like that—so shining and beautiful, twin jade gemstones that are determined to make him feel good. He’s been so good. He has held off his orgasm for so long. He can only hope Rafael is proud of him, and he says as much, barely managing to get the words out: “Did I do it?”

Rafael smiles and pats his head with his free hand. His other strokes once, twice, and Sonny chokes on a sob. “You did it. You were such a good boy. You were so beautiful.” He leans forward to press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, then his cheek, his jaw. “Such a good boy. Thank you, Sonny.”

It’s the last thing he registers before he’s coming, hard and loud, yelling and bucking for a presence that has shifted. Rafael strokes him through his orgasm with soft praises on his lips, and he keeps moving until he’s a trembling mess. One knee is lodged into the couch, barely upright, while the other hangs off the edge and brushes his toes along the carpet. It’s the only sensation he feels—the thrumming aches in his knees from being in that position for so long—besides the warm hand on top of his head and the other that catches his come and lays it on his back. The flat of Rafael’s tongue makes quick work of it, always finishing with a peck and hum. If he wasn’t so worn out, Sonny would react—maybe laugh, or shiver, but instead, he just sags into the motions and sighs.

He doesn’t register Rafael leaving until he hears him in the kitchen, opening the fridge what he hopes is water. Sonny sits up and rearranges himself to not only stretch his legs out and ease his knees but to avoid the white stain that will probably never leave the cushions. He needed a new couch anyway.

Rafael—tucked back in, though his vest is unbuttoned, and his tie sits around his collar—returns with two water bottles and a grimace at the stain. Sonny laughs, his voice clearly worn and tired, and scoots over so Rafael can avoid sitting on the stain.

“I’ll clean it up in a sec,” he says with a wave.

“With Jell-O legs? I don’t think so,” Rafael snorts. He drops a water bottle in his hand and opens the other to steal a sip. “It’s the least I can do after…well…” He doesn’t finish his thought, but downs two large gulps of water. Probably to distract himself, no matter how refreshed he looks from the cold sips.

Once he’s been rehydrated, Sonny shifts his legs so that his right one crosses over Rafael’s lap. Now that they’ve both come, and it’s only the afternoon, the atmosphere between them is tamer, more relaxed. There isn’t a front to put on anymore. It’s just them. “I really liked what you did, Rafael.”

“Did you?” Rafael looks over at him, and Sonny has to reign in his pout at the worry on his face. He looks equal parts scared at the thought of going too far and terrified at the possibility of sharing so much. “Or are you just saying that to please me?”

Sonny gives him a disbelieving side-eye. “I don’t lie.” He softens up, though, and reaches over to pat Rafael’s shoulder. “Seriously. I really enjoyed myself. You were great at bossing me around.”

“More than I already do?”

“I think it helped, honestly.”

Rafael scoffs but his smile is made of genuine relief from the reassurance. “Thank you. You did great as well, but I think I already told you.”

Sonny laughs. “Yeah, you kinda told me when you licked my come off my back.”

“I saw the chance and took it. Would you like to press charges?”

“If it’ll help me not get a stiffy every time someone calls you ‘Counselor,’ then yeah.”

Somehow, Rafael Barba has another smile to spare for him, made with nothing but appreciation and relief and contentment. Sonny melts at both.

* * *

They take a nap—meaning Sonny, after a cooling bath that eases the tension out of his legs, convinces Rafael that a nap would help both of them, and then convinces him again to wear an old pair of pajama pants that are a bit too long and a worn Fordham shirt. Rafael complains about both articles of clothing—“I keep on tripping, your giraffe legs are too long”—multiple times—“this smells like coffee and pastry”—but eventually they get to his bed. Sonny throws a large blanket over them and fluffs Rafael’s pillow to his liking before they settle. And if Rafael sneaks closer to him while they settle down, barely two minutes into their supposed nap, he is none the wiser.

Rafael is woken up from the ringing of Sonny’s phone and the shift of his body. His arms hang around Sonny’s hips in a firm grip, which only gets tighter when the younger man sits up and answers his phone with a bleary “Carisi.” He wakes up more as the call continues, asking questions about whatever case has been picked up. Rather than sit up and try to gather his own take on the call, Rafael scoots closer and wraps his arms tighter around him. Usually, when he wakes up with Sonny and finds himself hugging him with a koala-like urgency, he spares both of them the embarrassment of justifying the intimacy and backs away without a second thought. Now, Rafael sees no rush to cut off the snuggle, especially with the sleepy tone of the voice above him.

Sonny hangs up and tosses his phone on the bed. His hand reaches down to tenderly roll through his hair, his fingers dropping through the strands. Rafael turns his head, his head coming dangerously close to his lap, and glances up at Sonny. The look of worry creasing his forehead tells him everything he needs to know. “You picked up a case?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, and the mood is decided. Rafael lets Sonny slide out of his arms and sit on the edge of the bed. “Couple on a date. They’re headed to Mercy now. I’m gonna meet Lieu there and wait for them to wake up.”

“Happy Friday.” Rafael stretches out and joins Sonny, their thighs brushing together as he throws his legs over the side of the bed. A coy smile plays at his lips in the hope that he can ease the tension out of his bed partner’s shoulders. “I thought we were beyond treating each other like one night stands and kicking each other out.”

Sonny chuckles, but the sound is sad and short. “Yeah, I did too. You can stay here if you want. I don’t know when I’ll be back, though.”

Rafael shakes his head. “No, I’ll head home. Cashew probably stress ate all her dry food. I left extra early today.”

“I’ll drop you off.”

Whether or not he wanted him to, Rafael knew Sonny would do it anyway. He’s a guest in his home, it isn’t a far drive, and they get to spend a bit more time together from a night that was interrupted. Rafael hesitates to call it a night for themselves, seeing as they never properly set one up, but he was hoping to have some dinner or talk some more before he left. At least they had the afternoon and a two-hour nap.

Rafael doesn’t argue and instead presses a soft kiss to Sonny’s forehead. He says nothing else, and from the stricken look of shock and adoration on Sonny’s face, neither will he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Koala Barba more like 😎


	3. Allowed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rafael takes both of his wrists in his hands and returns them to the door. It takes a few seconds for the lust to clear from Sonny’s face before he responds with a grunt and an eyeroll. “C’mon. You can’t say shit like that and expect me to not react.”
> 
> “It’s not your reactions I have a problem with.” Rafael steps closer so that they’re chest to chest so that his legs have no choice but to frame Sonny’s and nudge up against his crotch. “It’s that damned insult of yours.”
> 
> Sonny groans at the pressed thigh and shifts for harder contact. “After kissing me like it’s your fuckin’ job, you’re still upset at the suspenders-belt comment?”
> 
> “For now.” He dives forward to lap up the sharp line of his jaw. “Not until you make up for it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this chapter up before tomorrow, since it'll be a hard day for me, and luckily I made it! I thought it'd take longer but I was really motivated through the last part of this. I'm a little scared that the new tags won't really represent what happens, particularly the "power bottom" bit, but hopefully, it can get better from here :')
> 
> Also after this chapter and the amount of romance and feelings and emotions it has, I'm debating if I should add "slow burn" to the tags because honestly? this is planned out to be eight chapters of them going "huh I wonder if he likes me as much as I like him" and never talking about it so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> AND BECAUSE I AM A FOOL WHO KEEPS FORGETTING TO MENTION IT I use music to help me get ideas and write shit down and for this fic I've listened to some ~sexy~ songs to get inspired. The first chapter was, of course, "Let's Talk About Sex" by Salt-N-Pepa. The second was "Love to Love You Baby" by Donna Summer which is basically sixteen minutes of an orgasm and I love it. For this chapter, I mostly listened to "I Want Your Sex" by George Michael when I started hashing it out, and honestly, that song can describe this entire universe. I just really miss George okay

Rafael is not having a good day.

First, he gets caught in traffic and ends up late for arraignment. His tardiness was, thankfully, forgiven by the judge and didn’t interfere with her ruling. But at least three defense attorneys came to him for shitty deals on harsh crimes and were unwilling to bend to his demands. The coffee cart operating by Hogan Place had a broken wheel and was out for the day. SVU—and, separately, seeing Sonny—make up for his sour day with a plethora of evidence for the cases he’s working on and two confessions. And Carmen buys him lunch and an extra tall order of coffee, so he’s only mildly perturbed by the evening.

He’s sitting on the couch in his office, trying to decide between ordering takeout to his office or heading home to eat there, when there’s a brisk knock on the door. He isn’t expecting anyone, but judging from the shadow blaring through the glass from the lobby, an eager detective has decided to visit and distract him. Rafael invites his guest in, and Sonny slides through with a sheepish smile.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he says, closing the door quietly behind him. “Figured you were still holed up in here.”

“Not for long,” Rafael sighs. He waves to the laptop opened in front of him on his coffee table. “I would be writing an opening statement, but I can’t tell a comma from a semicolon.”

“I’ll alert Oxford University.” Sonny takes a few cautious steps towards him—paired with the look of concentration creasing his brows, it’s definitely unusual behavior—and picks up a menu. “And you’re going home after, right?”

Rafael responds with a curt huff. “If I say no, are you going to drag me out of here by my suspenders?”

“I dunno. Are you gonna let me buy you dinner?”

Whatever thought he wanted to put down is suddenly flushed out of his brain. Instead, the request skirts around every surface of his mind, and Rafael is floored with how suggestive it is—and, probably more frightening, how much he wants the innuendo. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Sonny laughs and bows his head. The dusty red of his cheeks contradicts his words. “If I am, I think we’re doing it wrong. How many couples have sex before the first date?”

“Fair point.” It isn’t the reply he wants, but it’s better than the worst-case scenario. Their relationship has evolved from a professional work setting to a strange purgatory between casual sex and romantic urges. Rafael has enjoyed the freedom they have after they took out the rules for their sessions, but now that they’ve fallen, there’s only one logical next step, and Rafael can’t find an excuse good enough to keep him from Sonny.

It’s complicated. Rafael has kept all relationships plain and simple: those important enough get to know his birthday and favorite dessert, maybe meet his cat; anyone who can match his snark gets the occasional free coffee or a smirk that can be mistaken for a smile free of charge; loved ones have zero guidelines. The last long-term relationship he had almost lasted two years but not his move from Brooklyn, and that was barely anything even resembling a relationship between two people. And his family life was the type that skirted around affection; the only one who had been spared the habit was his abuelita, and her absence pangs his heart every time he sees her favorite flower or hears her favorite song.

The definition of his relationship with Sonny doesn’t keep him up at night. But Rafael has gained a headache or two trying to label what they are. With their rules in place, they were long-term fuck buddies—bed partners—two friends, loosely used, yearning for a one-partner fling. Without the rules, they could be anything, including exclusive romantic partners. It’s difficult to remember a time when he felt fondly for another person; he simply wasn’t expecting Sonny to be the face of those feelings. But they didn’t start seeing each other for romance. They didn’t organize weekends together because they wanted to make love—although Sonny is nothing if not a lover.

Simply put, Rafael would pursue something and stop running around the detective if they hadn’t clarified from the very beginning—even before they established their rules—that they were only sexually interested in each other. They were meeting for sex, not for love. And as much as it hurts to deny the raw feelings inside him, it’s easier to keep things simple without their hearts getting in the way.

It’s just unfortunate that he had to be the rule breaker of the two.

“For the record,” Rafael suddenly speaks up; Sonny looks up from the menu with interest, his eyes shining with anticipation, “if you were to ask me on a date, I wouldn’t stop you. In fact, I’d only have one answer for you.”

Sonny opens and closes his mouth a few times before he decides to shut it and press his lips together. The menu drops from his hands as he flies to his feet, fidgeting with the edges of his jacket. One hand pats the coif of his hair, but whatever anxiety is welled inside him doesn’t spew out. Instead, he only manages to free a few tresses of gray and reach for the menu. Instead of letting him flounder, Rafael grabs the paper first and gets his attention with the movement of his hands.

“What are you worried about?” He makes sure his voice is soft before he asks anything, checks that the usual edges of his tone are rounded, lets his expression slip into concern that he wants Sonny to see. Not to guilt him into answering, but to show his trust. “What’s on your mind, Sonny?”

His lips part again—as thin as they are, Rafael knows how soft and tender they are, how many nips he’s laid into that lower lip, how many times he’s admired the thin Cupid’s bow and the pout it forms when he doesn’t get enough kisses. No twist of Staten Island leaves his throat. No explanation for his sudden bout of frayed nerves. Somehow, suddenly, no answer is scarier than a bad one.

“Sonny.” Rafael stands and stops short of wrapping his arms around Sonny’s taller frame. If they were in bed, under warm covers, he might pretend that his tight grips and koala hugs are his subconscious acting up. But that type of intimacy isn’t allowed between flings. Rafael keeps his distance, clenching his fists and looking up at the detective. Sonny looks lost, his blue eyes swimming with the frantic behavior of a man out at sea with no land in sight. Even though he is the taller of the two, the hunch of his shoulders makes him smaller. “Say something. Anything.” When he still doesn’t get anything, Rafael cautiously reaches out between them and lays a hand on Sonny’s shoulder. At least he doesn’t flinch away. “You don’t have to explain, but just…give me something. Please.”

Sonny clears his throat, licks his lips, and lets loose a long sigh. “Can I kiss you?”

Rafael fulfills the request in the same breath as his “yes.” The kiss is slow and short, despite the molding of their lips over familiar territory and the sag of Sonny’s shoulders when they break apart. Rafael pulls him down for more, holding his face in a gentle grasp as he licks and sighs. The only thoughts he has to spare are for the man in front of him, every stricken idea of what to do with him, every thankful breath that somehow, out of everyone, this man is with him. Out of all the people in Manhattan, they fell into each other.

Rafael pushes him until his back hits the door, and the soft grunt Sonny lets out starts a frenzy of thirst. His hands fly to the taller man’s jacket and slide it off his shoulders; Sonny occupies his lips and mind with quick hands that roam his back and clutch the cross of his suspenders. The displeasing grunt at the layers of clothing blocking their way rises from Rafael’s throat and his fingers catch at the buttons of his vest. There’s a deep frenzy stirring in his chest that only wants to undress the detective as quickly and efficiently as possible.

“This is all I want,” Sonny breathes out. Rafael, keeping his mouth occupied, kisses along his jaw and blows air along the skin of his neck peeking out from his collar. There are better uses for that tie; it’s in his way. “Forget everything else. I just wanna kiss you.”

“Then do it,” Rafael snips back. Sonny takes the initiative and drags him up for a searing, open-mouthed kiss. His tongue flickers and roves over his, but the second Rafael pushes between lithe legs, he relinquishes control, sliding down a bit against the door and making it easier for both of them. Rafael runs a hand through his hair and pulls at the base of his skull, causing a shiver to bounce through Sonny’s limbs. He leaves one hand on his suspenders so the other can trace along his sides and land on his belt.

“Why do you wear this,” Sonny gasps, his smirk dripping through his voice, “with your suspenders?”

Rafael scoffs softly at the question and groans at the fumble of fingers that undo his belt. “Insurance. Style. Common sense.”

“It doesn’t make sense, and it’s not common.”

“You’d be surprised.” Sonny reaches up to slide the suspenders off, but Rafael takes his hand and pins it against the door. “Nope. You lost your touching privileges.”

Sonny shakes his head, the familiar dip of his left dimple going deeper than the right, and bites his lower lip. “Why, for eluding to the fact that suspenders and belts are an unnecessary combination?”

“If they’re so wrong, what does that make me? A fashion monstrosity?”

“Those are—” Rafael starts to make his way down his hips to grab his thighs, causing Sonny to gulp and sigh at the ministrations. “Those are  _your words_! ” He reaches around to his crotch and molds his fingers along the curve of his bulge. Rafael smirks and rests his chin on Sonny’s shoulder to hide his amusement. “I asked an innocent question.”

“‘Innocent’ being the keyword of that statement.”

“You wouldn’t know.” Sonny ducks his head and nudges his nose against his cheek for his attention, the corner of his lips twitching into a knowing smile. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

Rafael takes a few seconds to look the other man up and down before he’s capturing his lips again, tilting his head to properly wrap their tongues together. It hurts how amazing Sonny Carisi is to him: he has his birthday memorized, he can make his favorite dessert, including the secret one that only his mother knows, and for all his moaning about being a dog person, he adores his cat Cashew. He has more than matched his snippy comments with his own comebacks; he always pairs a free coffee with one of his own; the number of times he’s witnessed the wistful twists of a smile are too many to count. He wouldn’t intentionally hurt him—his heart is too good for something that malicious.

Sonny can be the one who highlights the special perks that loved ones get as long as he is the only one who gets to see it.

The space between them is minimal, but it is charged with electricity and the telltale signs of sex. Rafael has done it enough times with Sonny to know when they’re planning to do more than make out. Both of their hands are addicted to roving and squeezing every surface, skating over clothes and exploring familiar terrain for assurance. There is no way Rafael is leaving him alone, and he is convinced of that by the confident fingers and parted lips that leak high-pitched gasps and drumming groans.

“We should leave,” Rafael huffs, finally separating to breathe in air. Something about that tongue of Sonny’s is making him lightheaded. “I need to ride your dick.”

Sonny’s eyes practically roll back into his head. “Fuck.” He grapples at his firm core, fingers curling over his stomach and reaching for his shoulders, but Rafael takes both of his wrists in his hands and returns them to the door. It takes a few seconds for the lust to clear from Sonny’s face before he responds with a grunt and an eyeroll. “C’mon. You can’t say shit like that and expect me to not react.”

“It’s not your reactions I have a problem with.” Rafael steps closer so that they’re chest to chest so that his legs have no choice but to frame Sonny’s and nudge up against his crotch. “It’s that damned insult of yours.”

Sonny groans at the pressed thigh and shifts for harder contact. “After kissing me like it’s your fuckin’ job, you’re still upset at the suspenders-belt comment?”

“For now.” He dives forward to lap up the sharp line of his jaw. “Not until you make up for it.”

“Well, Counselor,” Sonny utters the title with a lowered voice, and he arches down to make eye contact with him, “let me do the honors.”

Rafael shivers—at the voice, at the ideas that spring to his head, at the knowledge that whatever Sonny offers will be beautiful and mind-numbing. He holds off on giving an answer to allow Sonny to provide a teasing raise of his leg that ghosts over his ass. The only thing that stops him from throwing that giraffe body on the couch and testing how flexible he is comes in the form of a teasing wink and a gentle hum. “What did you have in mind? Without your hands,” he adds the last part before he can get an answer, and Sonny’s pout is just asking to be bitten.

“I don’t need my hands to deep-throat you.”

“Shit.” He chokes on the intake of breath he tries to inhale. “You fucking—I see your point.” He drops his hands to reach around his waist and palm at his ass. Sonny jumps at the contact and bucks into it with a pleasured moan. “Let’s make a deal now that we surprised each other with vulgarity.”

Sonny laughs, breathless, and throws his head back. “So if I make up for my comments, can I pleasure you freely, Counselor?”

God. There is little that he could ask for that Rafael wouldn’t deliver for him without a second thought. His time and attention are just two of those things that he would prepare and present for Sonny. “Say it one more time and I might leave you no other choice.”

“Counselor.”

Sonny emphasizes his accent, removing the “r” from the end of the word and letting the “ah” sound linger in his mouth. The letters in the middle bleed into the end of the first syllable and disappear for some extra effects. The smirk on his face is supposed to provoke him, and Rafael couldn’t be happier.

Rafael kisses him—reckless and messy, compiled of wet smacks and a hand that sneaks up his back to tangle through his hair. Sonny melts at the attention with a sigh and keeps his hands where Rafael put them against the door. He knows better than to disobey him, especially after so many warnings. And his reward for listening so well—what a good boy—is a resumed massage of his dick through his slacks. The touch emits a moan that erupts from his throat that makes Rafael’s gut lurch. Sonny has enough emotional expression for both of them and a sound for each one.

“Do you know,” Sonny gasps between breaths, “how hard it is to,” he pauses again when Rafael swoops back in and sucks on his lower lip, “to not touch you?”

“Tell me about it.” Rafael brings both of his hands to unbuckle Sonny’s belt, slides it out, and tosses it aside. His hands are equally quick to squat down to take off his shoes and pull his pants down. And since he’s on his knees, he glances up at him through his eyelashes, hovering in front of his growing bulge. “I like the sound of your voice.”

“Shit.” Sonny’s hands fumble in the open air, hovering above his head but never landing.  _ A good boy _ , Rafael muses to himself as he presses wet and open kisses along his clothed cock as a reward. The reaction is instantaneous: a keen that evolves into a gasp, hands clawing against the wood of the door behind him, shifting hips with a silent request for more. But Rafael moves away and stands back up, earning a frustrated huff in the process. “You’re a fucking tease.”

Rafael simply shrugs and peels his suspenders off, letting them hang at his hips. His belt falls to the ground shortly after and he steps out of his slacks. With a firm grasp on Sonny’s hips, he rubs their dicks together, making sure to connect the clothed tips together. Sonny’s fingers flex but still stay against the door, moving only to restlessly scrape against the wood. It’s impressive to see how much control he has, and Rafael has half a mind to ask if it’s from his own restraint or if he’s simply that good at following the rules.

“Where do you want me?” Sonny asks, voice hoarse and rich. “Guide me over, Raf.”

“I like that nickname when it comes from you,” Rafael admits with a sigh. He takes Sonny’s hands in his and walks backward to lead him to his desk. When he hits the front edge of his desk, he tugs the detective close and nearly topples him over. “But you didn’t hear it from me.”

With a chuckle, Sonny falls against him and steals a kiss. “Never. Rafael Barba doesn’t have feelings.”

“Well,” Rafael toys with his tie and unfurls it to better hold Sonny against him, curling his fists around the ends, “maybe a few feelings. One person can see it.”

A look of hope crosses over Sonny’s face, possibly at the chance that said person could be him, but he reigns in his enthusiasm and shrugs nonchalantly. “Maybe I could meet him someday. Make sure he knows not to let you sleep in your office. Or that your secret stash of caramel chocolate is in your desk’s middle right drawer.”

Rafael cocks his head to the side, and he swears he can hear Sonny’s heart stop and trip over itself. “Look in a mirror then.”

He doesn’t expect the detective to hold back his affection, not when he makes his head tilt like that or says things like that. It explains why he lets the kiss that Sonny tugs him in, gripping his shoulders and digging his fingers in, lasts longer than he should have. He blames the intoxicating sounds that leak from the taller man, the roaming hands that tug at his clothes and admire every plain he makes contact with. Rafael momentarily sags into it, draping his arms over Sonny’s shoulders for easy access to his hair. The amount of product has definitely decreased since his first days at SVU, so the swooping coifs of his hairstyle are softer now, dark blond strands dusted with gray waves. It compliments him and adds a bit more character to his outer appearance. He’s thankful the squad or his family have yet to convince him that it needs to go.

Rafael soothes the rushing hands twisting over him by catching his wrists and pulling them away. A mock smile falls on his face with a flicker of amusement at his expense. “Oh, Sonny. You should have known better.”

Sonny, clearly dazed from the kiss and blind with desire, blinks and looks down at him. “What?” He glances at his hands and rolls his eyes, standing up straight almost immediately. “Come on, are you serious?”

“I said no touching. And the only thing we’ve done is shove our tongues down each other’s throats.”

“You didn’t enjoy any of it? You didn’t think it made up for me saying that your suspenders-belt decision doesn’t make sense, which is something that Olivia Benson herself has pointed out to you on more than one occasion?”

“We’ve had better sessions.”

“Raf—” Rafael silences him by pressing a finger to his lips, but it doesn’t stop the pout that Sonny directs at him. What a baby.

“Since you didn’t let us leave my office, and you refuse to listen to my orders, I’m going to take some control back, if you don’t mind.” Rafael gives himself up to the swell of confidence and bravery sweeping through him to make his presence and stance known. Sonny, just like last Friday, merges into a person who listens well and must prove just how good he can be. “And since you can’t or don’t want to keep your hands to yourself, I have no choice but to make you listen.” With a quick glance at the tie dangling from Sonny’s collar, Rafael tugs the article of clothing free and wraps it around his fingers. “With your permission, I would like to tie your hands together so that you will finally stop touching me when I haven’t given you permission. If you don’t mind, I’ll be inclined to think you want this, since you keep on forgetting.” Sonny’s audible gulp and the flash of light in his eyes are just as much a confirmation than the affirming nod and airy “yes” he provides. Rafael drapes the tie over his neck and pulls him in close, their noses bumping together. “But, if you’d rather me not, we can stop here, put our pants on, and leave. I don’t want to force you into anything.”

He adds his last remark with the removal of the assertive figure and replaces it with a tender lover, one who knows what Sonny likes as well as he knows his own preferences. It’s a good reminder for both of them that one of the only ways the whole scene works is if both of them want it and trust the other, and that Rafael, as the dominant one for the moment, can remove himself from the situation as quickly as he can step into it when and if Sonny needs him to.

That’s the single factor that makes this whole performance worth it. It isn’t from the power he has over Sonny in this situation or the thrill to know that everything Sonny does is for his pleasure. It’s knowing that Sonny trusts him enough to allow him to dominate him and dictate how the scene will play out. Without that trust, there’s nothing for them to partake in. Rafael can live with that—he always liked a healthy equilibrium in his partners, and sex was always part of that, whether it included never trying anything or crossing off experiments on a bucket list. If Sonny said no, he could walk out of the office and go home, or stay and continue work, and he would carry on. Maybe a bit disappointed, but not distraught. But Sonny losing all trust in him, being afraid of sharing these moments of intimacy, never sneaking into his bed or letting Rafael wrap him up in koala hugs and tight embraces, is the idea that hurts the most.

For a moment, the only thing running through his mind is the image of Sonny saying no because he is terrified of him and the power he wields against him and unable to continue. It makes Rafael sick, to even think that he could ever lose Sonny’s trust, and he asks himself why he even allowed them to talk about exploring kinks if he was only giving himself a new migraine. But he grounds himself with a roll of his shoulders and an unwavering stare to calm himself from the mild brink he had led himself towards.

Sonny, perhaps sensing his distress, nods and idly licks his lips. “Yeah. Do it. I don’t think I can stop myself otherwise.” He smirks at the last comment, proving his point by dragging a hand up his side with deep admiration.

Rafael is surprised by how fast he moves, bending Sonny over his desk and bringing his hands behind his back. Sonny already has his wrists crossed and ready to be bound behind his back by the time he’s flat against the surface. With a final kiss to the inside of Sonny’s wrists, Rafael wraps the tie around his wrists—simply, only wrapping it around twice—and ties it off in a pretty bow. It’s tight enough that it hugs his skin but loose and available enough to come undone with a single pull if he needs to get free. Rafael smiles at his quick handiwork and lets the ends of the tie dangle on either side of the bow, more for aesthetic purposes than anything else. The dark blue material still looks good with his skin tone. In fact, he hasn’t gotten to see much of that pale expanse of skin, and Rafael is offended that he would keep it away from him.

“How does that feel?” He asks, one hand staying on his forearm in case it’s too uncomfortable. Sonny looks fine—his shoulders are slack and his hands wiggle from their stuck position against his lower back, but his words will provide the reassurance he needs to hear.

“Feels good,” Sonny sighs. He looks over his shoulder with a mild grin and tries to pull his wrists apart to show how firmly they’re tied together. “You sure I still can’t touch you like this?”

Rafael helps him stand up straight again and leads him to his chair. A thousand and one coy comments about what this must feel like jump on his tongue but he saves them for the best opportunity. For now, he helps ease Sonny into his chair and adjusts him so he’s leaning on his arms and not sitting on them. “You’re not supposed to like punishments, you know.”

“You sure about that?” Sonny raises a leg and props it against the seat. His words play a game of innocence but his smirk proves otherwise. “Because if I’m having a great time, that says a lot more about you than it does about me.”

“Is that what you think?” Rafael scoffs at Sonny’s shrug and starts to unbutton his shirt. Sonny’s can stay on, for now, just a bit more to add to his supposedly enjoyable punishment. “Thank you for the motivation then.”

Sonny gulps but stays still when Rafael kneels in front of him and tugs his underwear off with a dramatic wave of his arms. He reaches behind him to pull out the bottom right drawer for the stash of condoms and lube he stored specifically for Sonny. A fond flutter floats through his chest at the thought—only Sonny, no one else—and he settles back on his haunches to squirt lube on his fingers.

“I hope you don’t mind me taking initiative tonight.” He wiggles his fingers to warm up the slick, making sure with a stolen glance upward that Sonny is watching every move he makes. “After all, I said I wanted to ride your dick and I intend to follow through with my declaration.” The only response he earns is a wide-eyed stare, the blue of his irises glimmering like glass. Rafael reaches behind himself and makes sure that gaze follows it. “Is that okay with you?”

“Yes.” Sonny shuts his eyes and leans his head back against the chair. His neck looks so pretty from this position, bare and pale and unmarked, throat bobbing with an audible swallow. “Fuck yes. I love when you ride me.”

“Mm, I don’t think you’ll be saying that later.” He sits up for a better position and presses his finger into his entrance. The initial bite from the intrusion is soothed with his free hand clenching Sonny’s knee. “Have you ever heard of a power bottom, Dominick?”

At the use of his first name, Sonny’s eyes fly open and a strangled cry breaks from his throat. Rafael doesn’t expect him to answer; he wants a reaction more than a verbal reply. And Sonny certainly delivers with the yelp he makes. Instead of dignifying the reaction with an answer, he sighs and leans forward. His finger slides up to the knuckle and wiggles around, continuing the conversation as casually as he can.

“The meaning of a power bottom is in the name: it’s someone who bottoms during sex but has all the power.” He pauses to shift on his knees and roll his finger around with a grunt. With the small shift in the pair of legs he sits in front of, the tied wrists are definitely having an effect on his bed partner. “And I already fucked you until your legs went numb–”

“God,” Sonny breathes out, “you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“—so now we can see if I can do it like this.” Rafael quickens his pace and prepares his second finger to join the first. If the detective is thirsty for him, he should wonder how he feels in contrast, watching him squirm in the chair and whine when he can’t pull his arms in front of him. Rafael has tried this type of thing with two partners before, but not with Sonny; before he goes any further, he’s going to make sure Sonny’s comfortable and okay. “Do your arms feel alright? Do you need me to untie you?”

Sonny shakes his head, coming back to himself for a moment, and flashes a satisfied grin at him. “Nah. It’s nothing I can’t handle. I just like fighting it.” He rolls his shoulders and shimmies his hips to prove his point, and Rafael is surprised by how easy it is to join in with a soft laugh.

“It’s your tie. Don’t rip it.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

Rafael eyes him up and down, over the curve of his abdomen and the bob of his dick. With his arms behind his back, Sonny is open and exposed to him, an image of anticipation and enthusiasm and readiness. The slightly disheveled collar and wet lips only help accent the mood further. With his index finger flexing and moving inside, he takes the opportunity and moans softly from the back of his throat. “Tell me, Detective. Do you wish you were stretching me right now?” Rafael makes a show of tossing his head back, running his free hand up Sonny’s bare thigh when he inserts a second finger. “Would you rather watch me fall apart because of you?”

Sonny whines and shifts his hips to get his cock under his hands, but Rafael takes it back before it reaches his pelvis. The frustrated grunt is more pleasing than he thought. “I’m suffering. Come on, Rafael, get it over with.”

“Mm,” he breathes out and smiles, sly and playful, “I want to be prepared. You’re not exactly easy to take in.”

“Oh, God.” The spread of his legs gets wider, if at all possible, and he starts humping the air in front of him.

“Next time, I’ll say even more. I’ll describe every movement you make, see if you can come from my voice alone.”

“You said that last time.” Sonny glares down at him, though it softens when Rafael gasps and clenches his knee. “When are we actually gonna do it?”

“Next time, if you play your cards right.” Rafael takes a moment to relish in the stretch of his entrance and the inch towards his prostate. “How about tomorrow? Dinner at my place?” Sonny’s toes curl at the next cry he lets out when he brushes along the group of nerves. Rafael has half a mind to lean forward and wrap his tongue around his cock, but he holds back for the time being. “When your shift ends, you can head over there to wait for me, and I can bring dinner on my way to you.”

Sonny laughs quietly, the sound bright and genuine. For a second, it doesn’t look like he’ll get an answer, but then he looks at him, and Rafael can feel his breath leave his body. The openness, the admiration, the honesty of the feelings inside him that Rafael is sure they share. There are fewer things more beautiful than that sight in front of him: that perfect smile, one dimple deeper than the other, just as sweet no matter how intense or glad he is. Sonny is more than handsome. He’s beautiful.

“I like the sound of that,” Sonny answers quietly, nearly a whisper. “Let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” Rafael slides closer to him when he presses against his prostate. The blob of precome that leaks from the head of Sonny’s dick when he lets out a soft cry does not go unnoticed. “Can’t wait.”

“I can.” Sonny locks his ankles behind Rafael and gently swerves his hips forward. Rafael chuckles at the attempt to bring him closer. “Unless you wanna get up here and ride me already.”

Rafael holds his fingers against his prostate at his words and fumbles for the condom with his free hand. He nearly sends it sliding over the office floor and under his desk, with how much he finagles with it. When he finally grabs it, Sonny sits back up and positions his feet firmly into the carpet. But instead of putting it on the long dick in front of him, he keeps eye contact and teases Sonny by gasping at every push he sends to his prostate. Even though he is equally impatient for whatever the detective is offering, it’s worth the wait to watch the conflicting emotions appear on his face—impatience, longing, ardor, all rolled into one. How pleasant.

“You’ll be the end of me, Carisi,” Rafael says under his breath. He finally slides his fingers out of him and rips the corner of the square foil. The sound makes Sonny writhe in the chair, his arms twitching against his tie. He settles when Rafael grabs the base of his cock and slides the condom on in one fell swoop, reacting with nothing but an audible gulp and a whine from the back of his throat. How pleasant indeed.

It takes a few attempts and licks of his lips for Sonny to work his throat and speak. “Not if you take me down first.”

Rafael scoffs and quickly squirts lube onto the condom to slick it up. Each rise of his hand only increases the impatient wiggling. “I guess we’ll just have to race each other, then, huh?”

“Rafael Barba, I swear, if you don’t get up here right now—”

Rafael silences the weak threat with an enthusiastic kiss and gently positions himself in Sonny’s lap. His knees rest on either side of his thighs, even if it’s not a comfortable position, but it’s nothing he hasn’t done before. And of course the chair is high-quality, pushed against the wall, so he trusts it won’t roll out from under them or break halfway through. Besides, it barely made a sound the last time they had sex in it.

Rafael uses the shoulders in front of him for balance and hovers over Sonny’s dick. Before he plunges down, though, he looks at the other man—hands tied behind him, lips open in a pant, legs spread and perched and ready for what’s to come—and returns to reality. This is their last chance to back out, and Rafael refuses to go any further before he hears his compliance. “Do your arms hurt?”

Sonny shakes his head, but the glare Rafael shoots him makes him verbally respond. “No. They’re fine.”

Satisfied, Rafael pats his head and gets in a good position to lower himself. “If you want to stop at any time, you tell me.” 

“I will.” The head of his cock breaks through; Rafael goes slow, enjoying the burn as he sinks until he engulfs his dick. Sonny throws his head back at the contact and repeats “Oh God” under his breath with each inch that disappears. The mantra already sounds thoroughly worn, and the bared and bobbing throat only adds to it. Rafael leans forward to bite at his pulse, hard enough to pressure the area but not enough to mark him. The rolling groan that reverberates against his lips is enough to ground and distract him from the cock he’s now sitting against.

“Fuck, I’ll never get used to this,” Rafael sighs. He pairs his smile with half-lidded eyes and a voice warm and lustful. “You’re fucking huge, Sonny.”

Sonny grouses with an attempt to sit up and a twitch in his shoulders that runs through his biceps, but he flops back against the chair when he fails. His legs tremble when Rafael rolls his hips around, thighs trembling when he clenches around him. “You’re so tight,” he exhales. “God, Rafael, fuck, you could kill me.”

He smirks and raises his hips, returning back down only when Sonny angles his hips upward. “That’s exactly what I was going for.” Clench, raise, drop. He earns a cry for his movement. “I hope you remembered this was supposed to be grueling for you.”

“Not touching you isn’t enough? What else are you planning?”

Rafael shrugs and hisses at the stretch. One more rise up should have him prepared enough to begin his teasing. “Maybe if you respected my choices in fashion instead of berating me, I could have allowed you to touch me as much as you wanted.”

Sonny eyes him doubtfully, definitely not believing anything he just said. Rafael removes it by squeezing around his dick and dragging the whine out of him. “That’s fair, but you also can’t deny that I made a good point.”

Rafael shakes his head with a small “tsk.” “And give you an ego? I’d ruin you.”

“That suggests,” he swallows, licks his lips, “that I haven’t been ruined already. Which, if you look at me,” he nods to his body: hands tied, body quivering, shirt wrinkled and plastered to his skin, “you can see it.”

“See what?” Rafael leans forward and brushes their noses together. He would have no problem kissing him breathless, but with his arms behind his back, there’s no way Sonny could get what he wants for very long. So Rafael taunts him, positioned right in front of him without access, only giving in when  _ he _ wants to. “Say it. I want to hear the words come from your mouth.” He braces himself on lean shoulders in expectation. “I want you to say it.”

Sonny shuts his eyes, smiles, and lets out a long sigh. “You wreck me.”

Rafael indulges the kiss, removes the breath right from his lungs, holds his face and admires the smooth curve of his jaw with the pads of his thumbs. The words curl inside his heart with each beat, thrum against his spine, fuel the fire burning in his thighs as he eases himself up and down. Sonny keeps his sounds as soft grunts and moans, but the second Rafael quickens his pace and begins bouncing on his lap, he breaks. The rising cries and desperate sucks for air bring them apart, and Rafael adores the sight.

“As much as I enjoyed our moment of intimacy,” he whispers, “I’m getting impatient.” His fingers scramble to Sonny’s shirt and nimbly traces down his front to unbutton it. The second he lays his hands on bare skin, admiring the pale plane, he sends a ripple effect through his body. Sonny moans and falls limp against the back of the chair, his eyes glazed over with desire and his shoulders slack. Rafael curls his hands up his chest to dig into his shoulders and steadies himself. Each thrust down is punctured by a grunt of concentration and paired with a flare in his thighs. He’s definitely going to get a workout from all the riding he’ll be doing.

Sonny is desperate to move his hands forward; his arms are wiggling for freedom behind him and he tries to arch, but Rafael moves too much for him to receive the contact or attention he wants. To make up for it, he shimmies his hips whenever he sinks back down, and the grin on his face says all he needs to know: he’s enjoying this, he loves the feeling, but he can’t stand the restriction placed around him.

Rafael teases him by backing off of his dick and hovering over his thighs so that only the head of Sonny’s cock is kept inside. The sound that comes from the detective’s throat is more of a squawk than anything else. “You know, I didn’t want to have sex in my office.” Sonny tries to move back into him, but Rafael clenches and stops him with a sharp gasp. “And half-dressed, no less. Do you think we’re animals?”

Sonny manages to roll his eyes and gasp out a few words. “Do you know,” he pauses to roll his shoulders and look at Rafael, “how many times we’ve made out in here?”

“Do you?” He lets his thighs relax so he can drop back down. The wanton moan he makes involuntarily is only matched with the deep whine and wrangled “no” that erupts from Sonny’s throat. Rafael chuckles and reaches up to run a hand through his hair, adjusting the silvery locks to better see his face. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

With a groan, Sonny rests his head on his shoulder. “It was absolute torture.”

“And I thought I was dramatic.” Rafael sighs mockingly and holds onto Sonny with one hand. Clench, raise, drop, repeat. His phone buzzes against his desk, and he is nearly smacked out of his lap with the idea he has. Grounding his fingers into the pale shoulder, already red from his grasp, he removes himself from the cock, leans back with surprising flexibility, and scoops his phone off his desk. He can already feel the pointed glare trained on him before he even sits fully back. And once he does, he makes a point to keep his eyes locked on his phone.

“Seriously?” Sonny tries to duck into his line of sight but Rafael arches away. “Am I boring you?”

Rafael rolls his hips on a thrust down and shrugs. “I needed to answer an email.” He resumes riding Sonny’s dick as he types out a response to the email sent to him. A perp he had put away in Brooklyn was filing for an appeal and both McCoy and the Brooklyn DA wanted him to look over the case.

Sonny’s pout is nearly enough to make him drop the act “It can’t wait?”

“They’re work-related and require my immediate attention.” He rises and locates documents that another ADA was looking for; he plunges and signs the email before he sends it. “Are you jealous?”

“No, but I thought we really had something going on—”

“Did we? Hold on, Rita wants a deal ‘for my sake,’ apparently. Should I decline?”

“You gotta be fucking—” Clench, raise, drop, groan. Sonny makes a good show of it too, pants as his arms twitch and his body twists just enough to reveal the still-intact tie around his wrists. The wiggling of his fingers, the desperation in his waving, shows how parched he is from the lack of contact. Rafael almost takes pity on the sight, but there’s another email about jury selection that he needs to answer.

“What was that?” He looks up from his phone, still typing, with a tilted smirk and teasing remarks. “I gotta be fucking what? Last I checked, I was fucking  _ you _ .” Rafael squeezes around him, and Sonny’s back curves in his arch backward. He flicks a nipple, partly to taunt his bound wrists, partly because it’s right in front of him, generally ignored since they began and firm from the exposed air. Rafael lets out a long sigh, dragging out the end in contentment when Sonny twitches inside him. “Ah. Good. I am.” He sends the email.

Sonny laughs, the sound riding high for a brief moment before he steadies himself. His eyes are wide and shining, flickering between warm cerulean and the spark of sapphire that gleams in the light. “That’s what I’m here for. Just little reminders.”

Something real clutches Rafael, squeezes his chest and wrangles his gut into a tight knot, and he discards his phone on the floor without a second thought. It can wait; those words, as joking as they may be, stab him through the heart. And it takes everything in him not to reach over and unravel his hands so he can hold them close and kiss every inch of skin until he runs out of breath. He settles for gripping Sonny’s shoulders and digging into the pale surface. “Never. Even as a joke, you’re here for more than that.” He swallows roughly; for a moment, he wonders if this would be worth it or if the words creeping off his tongue will come back to bite him. But it’s only the two of them, and the man in front of him could only have nightmares of revealing such deep truths and secrets.

Maybe his armor is starting to slip, or Sonny has gotten a good look at the darkness underneath, and he sees Rafael in his barest form, stripped naked of the items he uses to fend off wanderers who want to know more. It’s the only explanation for why he sits up and looks Rafael straight on, without falter, without fear, open and concerned and desperate for more. “Am I?”

“Always.” Rafael meets his quick response with one of his own. One hand rises, of its own accord, to caress the back of Sonny’s head. He has slowed his thrusts, for now, if only to convey what he means more effectively. “If I wreck you, then you destroy me. Every time you move those goddamn legs in front of me. Every time you open your mouth to contribute to the conversation. God, it’s like you know what you’re doing.” He brings their heads together, faltering just slightly in his rush, his cock throbbing. It feels like a rush of cold air flows out over him and douses him in a chilly gust. “I can’t ask for anything better than you.”

Sonny gasps and captures his lips in a searing lock of mouth and tongue. Judging from the twitching thighs beneath him and ever-rising whines, Sonny comes, bucking forward through the euphoria that glazes his eyes and pulses inside him. Eyes glimmering, lips wet, chest heaving for air, the same fondness curls inside Rafael’s chest. Sonny is beautiful. Even with the sweaty strands of hair dangling over his forehead, he is gorgeous.

“Unbelievable.” He whispers the compliment between them and kisses him once, twice, before he reaches down and grips himself. He aches for release, to mark this man, stain his chest and remind him that he is all Rafael has. The only person who gets to see him like this, who thrusts inside, who takes care of him and looks at him with adoration that is only ever returned. There might not be another for them. And if there is, Rafael never wants to find out.

Rafael had stopped his riding—his thighs burn pleasantly, from the backs of his knees to the thick muscles—but Sonny manages a hazy stare and nods at him. “Keep going. You’re almost there.”

How kind. The pleasant thought that Sonny can and will care for him soothes his racing heart, and Rafael simply listens and resumes his movement. The rising of his hips, sliding over his dick, brings a hiss and definitely some overstimulation, but Sonny only pants and nods faster. Perhaps there’s a bit of a praise kink in both of them.

“C’mon. Ride it out.” He shuffles his hips, and Rafael has to clench his hand at the base of his dick to stop himself from coming. The hit against his prostate is better than he imagined, and he wants to indulge in it a bit more, take what he can a little longer. Sonny’s soft assurance is a perfect match to the heat engulfing every part of him below the waist. “Come for me, Raf. Stain me.” He smiles and shuts his eyes in bliss. “Fuck the shirt. I have others.”

Rafael doesn’t answer. The only thing he can manage is a reach with his free hand to Sonny’s back to fumble with the tie and unravel the bow. The second it’s loose, Sonny takes only a brief moment to realize it before his hands swoop in. His right one wraps around his shoulder and pulls Rafael close, chest to chest, nose to shoulder, and his hand tangles in brown strands. His left meets Rafael at his cock and cups it around his fingers for two easy strokes to match the gentle rolls inside him. It’s all he needs to cry out and tip over, spilling over both their hands and splattering Sonny’s chest. The mess is gorgeous, more than he thought, clinging to the indents of his pecs and dribbling onto his abdomen. Sonny smiles, grateful and pleased, and Rafael practically falls out of his lap for the look.

They stay silent for a long while. Rafael, legs shaking but stable enough to keep him upright, picks up his phone and proceeds to gather his clothing. Sonny buttons his shirt, leaving Rafael’s come untouched, and simply drapes his tie over his collar. The fabric is a bit wrinkled, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, and there’s no visible damage. Rafael enjoys the way it looks and knowing where it’s been but looks away when he’s caught staring, pulling on his underwear and trousers as a distraction.

“Just for you,” he says as he shoulders his suspenders on and adjusts his pants. He makes a show of tossing the belt aside, separated from the vibrant cobalt of his suspenders. Sonny grins and laughs, sated but amused. Beautiful. He nods to his chest. “You’re going to stain your shirt if you don’t clean that.”

Sonny shrugs, pants on and condom tied and trashed, and dusts his jacket off before he puts it on. “Like I said, I have others.”

“Ridiculous.” He starts to gather his papers from the coffee table; at least he got some work out of the way. One can only hope that he goes home and actually relaxes.

“Hey, I didn’t check my emails while I rode my bed partner.”

“You should try it. Very amusing.”

They don’t talk much while they compose themselves, and they stay silent while Rafael locks his office and leads them to the elevator. Sonny looks content—definitely satisfied, maybe a bit dazed—but he offers to drive Rafael home, and it’s customary at this point to say yes. He must be getting softer with age.

“You know I was having a terrible day,” Rafael finally speaks up. Sonny selects the ground floor and acknowledges him with raised eyebrows and a hum. For good measure, just to balance the openness, he smirks and adds, “For once, SVU had nothing to do with it.”

Sonny rolls his eyes. “You’re a true comedian, Rafael.”

“I  _ was _ going to tell you about it, but if you’re going to be snarky, I can always save it for Cashew.”

“Spare her the details.” Sonny waves Rafael forward and smiles warmly. “You can tell me about it in the car.”

His stomach clenches, his mood rises, his heart drops.

* * *

Sonny wears The Tie a week later. Every time he talks, he runs over it, or adjusts his collar, or shifts his body in a way that moves the blasted thing. He has to be as aware of it as Rafael is, or else he wouldn’t have chosen it. The beautiful bastard.

Rafael finishes his meeting with SVU by rushing to the elevator, catching it right when someone is getting off it, and seething under his breath when the doors close. He jabs the button for the ground floor and wonders how it got to this. After their dinner date that definitely wasn’t a date and was nothing more than bed partners meeting to fornicate, he can only guess that the feelings brewing in his chest are genuine.

He no longer thinks of Sonny Carisi as a sexual partner. He no longer thinks of him as a coworker who shares a sexual interest and attraction with him and meets up to satisfy those urges. They are sexually exclusive to another, devoted to treating one another, but it’s more similar to the way intimate partners act. Rafael had his doubts after he bound Sonny’s wrists and rode him in his office chair. It only doubled when they met up for dinner at his apartment and had slow sex that felt more like making love than anything they’ve ever done. Even with Rafael whispering dirty thoughts in his ear and Sonny worshipped every inch of his body, they fucked slow and easy, and their combined climaxes felt too in-sync with each other. (They came together, but he refused to word it like that, even to himself.)

Rafael Barba is pining after Sonny Carisi. He can’t stop it, he won’t stop it, and he can only assume Sonny feels the same. Otherwise, there would have been some serious separation after that night. Sonny not only brought him a large coffee on his way to work the Monday after their intimate night, but the pretty blush that joined his compliment over his attire was more than enough to convince him that maybe, perhaps, it was possible for Rafael’s feelings to be returned. He never believed one thought could be so terrifying.

At least Rollins calling him “Counselor” rather pointedly during that meeting made it worth it. Sonny had to pretend the spilled coffee down his front was from the heat of his drink and not a reaction to the work title once used to command him around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't often name my Google Drive files with the title of the fic and for this one I called it "barisi but 'let's get it on' plays on repeat" and honestly what more can you want
> 
> Also if you can guess what song inspired the next chapter you'll have my eternal gratitude <3


	4. Think About It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonny sits up on his knees and makes himself comfortable between Rafael’s open legs. He runs a hand over the curls of dark hair on his chest, and Rafael arches into the motion with a quiet exhale. “Let me start here.” His hand slides over him, dusting over his right pec, and resting on the damp side of his neck. It might not have completely dried yet but the evidence of his presence was still there. Sonny, in a sudden stroke of genius, presses against his body, resting his chin on his abdomen, and taps the crook of his neck. “How’s it feel?”
> 
> Rafael shuts his eyes, content flowing over him and seeping into every inch of him. When he raises his hand to grip his hair, weaving through the brown strands, he lets out a moan. “Wet. Cold. Distracting.” His smile wavers at his next words; “Now that we’re laying down, it’s harder to ignore how hard I am. If you wanted to distract me, you definitely did it.”
> 
> “Courtesy of my clearly underrated mouth.” There’s no direction for either of them, no guidelines for what they’re supposed to do or how they’re supposed to carry this out. It’s just Rafael’s mouth and words, just Sonny’s mouth and tongue, just the two of them aimed to please the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I keep on writing 9k words worth of loser weenies who are just so grossly into each other and have yet to talk about it with each other but you know what no one's complained so far so I guess it's okay
> 
> Anyway we're halfway done with this fic! The upcoming chapters should hopefully come out quickly, only because they were the ones that got me to start writing this fic in the first place. I'm so excited for them and I hope you like them! For now, though, have some ~slow sex~ and slightly ~dirty~ talk
> 
> This chapter's inspiration brought to you by Boyz II Men's "I'll Make Love to You" they basically make love in this chapter
> 
> Also fun fact: I based Rafael's cat off of my own cat! He's not a calico, but he is a soft orange and purrs like a motorboat and has meowing problems. He's a very squeaky boy and I love him (what can I say my dog died and I miss her and he makes it better because he's a nice boy)

The day after their night in Rafael’s office, Sonny doesn’t try to hide his excitement for the evening. He has the spare key to Rafael’s apartment that was lent to him burning a hole in his suit jacket. He already spent a good twenty minutes figuring out the best outfit; his navy blue suit always gets Rafael’s attention, and the ties with small details on their fabric are particular favorites. He only registers that his color choices—specifically the sky blue gingham shirt and green tie with small white dots—are coordinated to their eye colors. Thankfully, he realizes it in the elevator on his way to the squad room, alone, so the burning flush of his cheeks goes unrecognized.

Sonny isn’t sure what to make of everything he’s associated with Rafael so far. Yesterday was incredible—amazing, even—but Rafael made it clear that tonight would be different. So far, with their other plans, he hasn’t disappointed, but Sonny isn’t sure if he ever could. It only occurred to him last night that his heart thrums every time Rafael breathes in relief or sneers at a snarky defense attorney or just struts across a room as if he owns it. And the only explanation for why he would react that way points to the idea that he has a deeper love for the attorney than he realizes.

It wouldn’t be terrible, loving Rafael, but it would be helpful to know what he’s already feeling about him. Is it still sexual and he’s simply misunderstanding signals, or is it an actual romantic attraction? Does Rafael see it, in Sonny or himself, and does he approve? Does he even want it? Does _ Sonny _ want it? (The answer is yes, he realizes when he actually takes the chance to sit down and think about it. And it’s only a little surprising to hear how content he is with that thought.)

Sonny tries to keep up with work, but his thoughts return to Rafael. He knows he’s in court all day, hopping from trial to arraignment to chambers, and the only acknowledgment of their preferred ADA is through a phone call Lieu has with him at eleven. Generally, he thought he was doing an okay job of keeping it under control during his shift, but he should have known better from the seasoned detectives that somehow call him their friend. At least they keep it under wraps until they clock out for the evening.

“You doing anything special tonight?” Amanda asks him while they wait for the elevator. “Jessie and Billie would love to see Uncle Sonny if you’re up for it.”

Sonny smiles at the mention of the girls—they’re basically his nieces, with how much love and attention he showers them with—and he shakes his head. “I would, but I have something planned for tonight.”

The interested quirk of her brows does not go unnoticed. “A date?”

“Something like that.” The elevator is taking its sweet time.

Amanda grins and looks aside, her hands clenching into fists and bumping together. “I knew it. Fin’s gonna be pissed.”

Sonny laughs in the hope that his uneasiness is hidden. “This isn’t Atlantic City. Are you trying to go all-in on my love life or something?”

Finally, the elevator arrives, and Amanda holds out a hand between the doors and waves him inside. “Fin said you’ve been daydreaming since you got in. I said it was because you have a date, because you only act like this when you’re lovesick, and he didn’t believe me. But I,” she jabs his chest, the beam on her face nothing more than a taunt, “knew better.”

“What do you mean I ‘only act like this’ when I’m lovesick?” He knows what she means, and he curses himself for not seeing it sooner and stopping it. “And since when are you and Fin running the gossip mill?”

“First off, you’re my brother by proxy, so I have a right to bug you about every detail surrounding your personal life.” Sonny rolls his eyes at that excuse, but there’s no denying the fondness in his heart for hearing something like that. He loves Amanda like one of his sisters; just hearing the affectionate barb makes him smile. “Second, you already act like a golden retriever who’s about to go on a walk, and you in love is that ten times over.”

“Oh come on.” Sonny debates taking the stairs if it means getting away from this conversation, but he leans across Amanda to shut the doors and bring them down. “I am not lovesick. We’re not even dating.”

“But it’s a start.”

He glares at her. “It’s barely a start, Rollins.”

“All I know is that you’re a lovesick fool over whoever the hell has you distracted. Did you know Fin had to tell you three times that your phone was ringing before you answered it?”

Interesting. Sonny half-expected Amanda and Fin to ask him a thousand questions once he revealed he was involved with someone. She didn’t even try to wring it out of him. “You aren’t gonna ask who it is?”

Amanda scoffs and stares at him with disbelief. “If I did, would you tell me?”

“No.”

“Well, there’s your answer.”

“Fair point.” Her grin reminds him of the type of bickering he would get in with his actual sisters. It’s the same energy as a sibling being told, for once, that they were right. “But again, we’re not dating. We’re just seeing each other.”

“Doesn’t matter what you call it.” She pokes him in the chest again and winks. “You’re still into them.”

* * *

Sonny is into Rafael. He knows that as well as he knows that the night isn’t a date. Rafael invited him to dinner at his place so they can have sex featuring dirty talk that Rafael has guaranteed will detail the pleasure Sonny layers onto him. The mere thought of having this opportunity makes his stomach run rampant with energy. In their exploration to discover more about each other with few boundaries, this would be one of their simpler suggestions, though also their most intimate.

When he arrives at Rafael’s apartment and opens the door, he doesn’t expect the cat to be waiting for him with a friendly tail and her attempts at meows. Cashew is a calico—which isn’t a cat breed, he learned—rescued from the streets and crossing Rafael’s path during a morning run. “I didn’t mean to find her,” he had explained, Cashew curled on his lap and purring like a motorboat, back when they first started meeting for sex. “But she’s a charmer. She’d make a wonderful prosecutor.”

When Sonny first met her, he compared her to a cat with a chocolate spill: her belly and legs are white, and the end of her tail and her lower face are orange, but her dark brown coloring covers everything else. The only spot untouched on her is an orange curve, peeking out from the shades of brown, that looks distinctly like a cashew nut—a name from his mother, Rafael argued, but the way he scratched her back and smiled at her told him he didn’t oppose it.

Cashew can’t meow; the vet suspected an injury at an early age or a fight that damaged her vocal cords. It not only affects her purrs, making them much louder than normal, but she makes what Sonny can only describe as half-meows. She either makes the gesture with her mouth and no sound comes out, or she manages a squeaky “ow” that is unlike anything he knows about cats. Which isn’t impressive—he’s a dog person, born and raised—but his point still stands. Rafael’s cat cannot meow.

“Hiya, pretty girl,” Sonny greets Cashew, shutting the door to stop her from planning an escape. He bends down to further block her way, and she sidles up to him instantly; her tail curves like a question mark and raises higher when she rubs against him. “Were you waiting for me?” The way Cashew drops to the ground and splays out as he scratches her chin answers his question. Sonny gives her a few more scratches but stops when she intentionally shifts and puts her stomach under his hand. He learned the hard way that patting a cat on the softer hair of their bellies would not guarantee the same reaction from dogs.

The apartment is tidy in the sense that the floor is clear and there’s no visible trash. The mess that is present is all work-related: law books on the coffee table, notes and files hiding the surface of his dining table, a shut laptop on the island counter. It’s a familiar, and pleasant, sight.

Sonny stands and discards his jacket on the hanger, toes off his shoes, and pads into the living room. Rafael had texted him when he got into the building to check his whereabouts and ask for his food order. There’s a Lebanese bistro they’ve ordered from that’s on his way home, and he messages the confirmed dinner order with his departure from work. If it weren’t for their plans, he’d probably end up working late into Hogan Place.

At least, for now, there’s some good that comes out of their relationship. The number of times he stays past closing is cut down when there’s something better to occupy his time.

While he waits for dinner and Rafael, Sonny skims through the latest hockey news on his phone and lightly scratches Cashew behind the ears and between her shoulders. The only sound in the apartment is her loud purrs of contentment and the small comments he gives her when she looks at him or paws at his slacks. Her claws are blunt and don’t crease into his skin, but the pressure is there, and he needs something to calm the urge for the person who rents the apartment and always joins him here. 

“You been keeping a good eye on him?” He asks after a few minutes of quiet. Cashew looks up at him and blinks slowly—a sign, he remembers from Rafael, that she trusts him and does not deem him a threat. Sonny scratches her chin and smiles. “Make sure he doesn’t drink scotch with every meal. Or _ as _ a meal.”

He takes the small white paw that lands on his knee as a sure sign that his request will be fulfilled. He has no obligation to the ADA, but it’s something he’s said to Frannie just as much. The only difference is that he’s not involved with Frannie’s human.

Before he realizes it, the front door is unlocking and Rafael enters with his briefcase and a bag of food in his hands. The minute he spots them, he smiles coyly and chuckles to himself.

“I thought you’d be naked and ready when I got here,” he admits, “but instead, you’re spoiling my cat.” Rafael shuts and locks the door, and Sonny stands to join him in the kitchen. The aroma wafting from the bag is too enticing to even try and ignore. Rafael hands the bag off so he can discard his briefcase and jacket.

“I thought about it, but I wanna fuel up before we get down to it,” Sonny explains with a shrug. Rafael gives an amused snort and pulls out the bottle of wine they use for dinners. They don’t often drink before they have sex, but when they do, they keep it to one glass per meal. It’s become a bit of a routine for them, and with Sonny overthinking every detail of their relationship, there’s a bit of domesticity that accompanies his fondness. Not that he’s complaining, but how can he be glad of the changes they’ve made when he can’t even figure out what they’ve become?

Sonny prepares their dinner on the island counters while Rafael feeds Cashew and pours them each a glass of wine. He takes advantage of the lawyer’s attention honed on the cat to steal a fry from Rafael’s bundle. A hand smacks it away before he can even lift it. “You have your own.”

“I wanna make sure it’s not poison.” Sonny goes to steal another, but Rafael slaps it away. He can’t help but laugh at the indignation that crosses the shorter man’s face. “If I can’t test it, what are you gonna do if you eat it and die?”

“Oh, and if you eat it first, you’ll survive.”

He shrugs. “Well, if I live, then I’ll just eat the next one. Just to make sure.” Sonny adds a wink to his comment and a smile that radiates joy. Rafael shakes his head but his quirked lips tell a different story.

Dinner passes quickly—not so much from the good food, and not from the expectation of what they’re about to participate in. They share tidbits about their day—Sonny mentions the witnesses he’s had to interview, and Rafael acts out a defense attorney’s attempts to discredit his witness—and their food seems to disappear in front of them. Time is useless to track right now. And what is there to follow when they’re having such a pleasant conversation?

“So some fresh-faced attorney tried to argue that you objecting to his witnesses’ non-responsiveness was prejudicial?” Sonny scoffs. “Where’d he get his degree, a cereal box?”

“When I say he looked twelve years old,” Rafael says, “I mean it. Noah and Jessie look older than him.” He downs the remainder of his wine and lets out a long sigh. “When you prepare a case for a client, the minute you deliver your opening argument, your questions are the only thing you have. You have to prepare every word you say, every answer your witnesses give, and sometimes, you have to goad the defense into objecting. Making opposing counsel object for non-responsiveness is not one of those.”

“But at what point would that be a good idea? Even if I’m so desperate to get my client off, I’m not gonna let my witnesses say,” he changes his voice, mimicking the soccer moms he’d overhear on Staten Island, “‘he really loved to use that knife, oh but he would never dare, he used to sing in the youth choir.” The soft chuckle he earns warms his gut. “Do you think he’ll appeal for ineffective counsel?

Rafael shakes his head. “Won’t have to. He asked for a deal the second court was adjourned. Three charges for stalking in the third, two in the second, four for harassment. Ten years, thousand dollars, and he allocates in open court.”

Of course Rafael kept out the more important details until he couldn’t anymore. Sonny just shakes his head and scoffs. “What a case.”

“It’s a good story. I’ll have to tell Rita. When she was a prosecutor, she was held in contempt for objecting to the defense’s, and I quote, ‘toddler criminal’.”

“Now that’s a story I’d like to hear.”

Rafael hums, and then stands from the island to run a hand fondly over Sonny’s cheek. “Maybe next time. I promised you something special tonight.”

Sonny can’t help the wide grin that stretches across his face or the slight turn he makes against the warm palm. “You’ll have to remind me what it is. I’ve been so deprived, my memory’s wiped clean.”

He takes a moment to respond, pausing and thinking on the reply before he smirks and pats his cheek. “Think about it. It’ll come to you.” Rafael gets up to discard their wine glasses, rinsing them and putting them in the dishwasher, and he heads to the bedroom with a sway of his hips that is definitely intentional. Sonny stops himself from salivating and tidies up their trash. He checks himself in the mirror in the small hallway that he looks presentable but halfway through adjusting his tie, he changes plans. Rafael’s going to demand them off with words and glances the second he walks into the bedroom. Might as well do it for him.

Sure enough, once Sonny undresses and enters Rafael’s room, he’s met with a similar sight: Rafael, completely naked, his shirt and tie on the bed like he’s laying out what to wear, his pants and boxer briefs halfway down his thighs. When he spots Sonny, naked and ready to start, he shoots him a welcoming smile and removes the last of his clothes. “Good to know we both had the same idea.”

“Great minds think alike,” Sonny teases. He drops his clothes, neatly folded, on the dresser and waits for Rafael to beckon him over. The second he does, one hand curving towards him in an invitation, eyes darkened with lust, their bodies connect. Skin to skin, Rafael holds him by the hips; Sonny drags his hands over his back, clawing at his skin and digging into the smooth plane. They hold back from kissing and simply share the same air for a moment, foreheads touched and the tips of their noses brushed together. Rafael lets out a long breath and gives him a lazy smile.

“Finally,” he says. He shuts his eyes and runs a hand up his side. Sonny’s skin prickles with goosebumps, and he bites at his cheek to stop himself from shivering. “I’ve been waiting for this since I suggested it.”

Sonny chuckles and kisses him. The touch is as enjoyable as he thought: familiar lips, tender and molded to the shape they know so well. Sonny can feel the smile that sprouts on Rafael’s face, content and tame, contrasting with the wild beam he lets loose. Rafael lets out a soft chortle and captures his lips again. All it takes is Rafael wordlessly tilting his head and Sonny follows suit. With the new angle, they can explore the inside of his mouth, battling softly, messy and slow and easy. The motions match the thrum of emotions brewing in his chest, thumping against his ribs, pouring from his lips and tongue to connect with the shorter man.

Rafael pulls back to gulp in air, the coy smile flickering up again, and Sonny roams his lips across his cheek and over his jaw to press against his throat. He smells like dusty law books and something expensive, a sharp aroma of leather swirling with a musky undertone that reaches out and clings to him. Now that his blasted shirt collar is out of the way, Sonny can take his time working his mouth over Rafael’s throat and feeling his pulse hum against his lips. His only response to the soft grip curling at his neck is a pleased purr.

“That’s it,” Rafael sighs. “Right there, Sonny.” He tilts his head to the side to give him better access, and Sonny seizes the opportunity to bow his head and suckle at the base of his throat. Rafael shivers and grabs his shoulders, curling his fingers when he nibbles lightly. “There you go. C’mon, bite me.”

Sonny grunts in response and applies a bit more pressure, scraping against his throat. When he sucks again, Rafael releases a long moan that erupts from his core and rumbles deep like distant thunder. The spot will be hidden by clothes, but he isn’t going to mark him unless he has permission. And until he gets it, he’s content to roam over the expanse of throat before him and feel every gasp and moan as it rises out of him.

“Mm.” Rafael grabs him by the hair and holds him in place. Sonny chokes on a breath and laps at whatever space is in front of him, right in the crook of his neck and shoulder, hovering above firm muscles. “You really know what to do with your mouth, huh? All this time, I thought it was only good for dick and rambling, and yet you’re proving me wrong.”

“I like surprises,” Sonny grunts. He licks up the line of his neck and pinches the skin of his jaw with his teeth. Just sharp bites aligning the round curve of his jawbone, the soft touch of his canines meant to crease, not bruise. He moves back to admire the gleam of spit coating one side of Rafael’s neck, and the contrast to the dry side churns his gut. “Hope you don’t mind too much.”

“Not at all.” Rafael preens at the suction and lifts his chin up, gently. His smile is warm, gentle but cautious of the new, more tender territory they’re exploring. “In fact, I encourage it.”

Sonny kisses him again, all tongue and hurried lips and deep sighs. Rafael wraps his arms around him and pulls him down to the bed with him. They fall on the covers with a flop, and Sonny laughs at the carefree nature of it all. For a second, if he shuts his eyes, he can revel in the feeling. He can pretend they’re romantically involved, not just colleagues or bed partners, but boyfriends—partners without exclusivity to sex. Rafael’s smile only pulls him deeper, leading the waves that consume him, but he brings him out of it with a hand that runs through his hair.

“How do you want to do this?” The question is soft, accompanied by the padding at the back of his head and idle runs through dark blond locks. Sonny watches the green eyes roam up his face, over the pops of silver in his hair, and back into clear blue. Open, honesty, excitement—all returned. “Where should we start?”

Sonny sits up on his knees and makes himself comfortable between Rafael’s open legs. He runs a hand over the curls of dark hair on his chest, and Rafael arches into the motion with a quiet exhale. “Let me start here.” His hand slides over him, dusting over his right pec, and resting on the damp side of his neck. It might not have completely dried yet but the evidence of his presence was still there. Sonny, in a sudden stroke of genius, presses against his body, resting his chin on his abdomen, and taps the crook of his neck. “How’s it feel?”

Rafael shuts his eyes, content flowing over him and seeping into every inch of him. When he raises his hand to grip his hair, weaving through the brown strands, he lets out a moan. “Wet. Cold. Distracting.” His smile wavers at his next words; “Now that we’re laying down, it’s harder to ignore how hard I am. If you wanted to distract me, you definitely did it.”

“Courtesy of my clearly underrated mouth.” There’s no direction for either of them, no guidelines for what they’re supposed to do or how they’re supposed to carry this out. It’s just Rafael’s mouth and words, just Sonny’s mouth and tongue, just the two of them aimed to please the other. Sonny emphasizes his comment by leaning down and idly licking his chest. Rafael gasps at the tongue that skirts just past his nipple, breathy and wanting.

“Fuck. Sonny.” His hands fumble for some contact, falling in his hair and the back of Sonny’s head. The shift of his body and wiggle of his hips inspires a yearning urge from his chest: he wants Rafael writhing underneath him, thirsty for his attention and spewing lewd suggestions from his mouth, guiding him over his body and directing his mouth. And Sonny wants nothing more than to follow this scenario and make it a reality.

He starts at Rafael’s chest; he splays his legs out and props himself up, positioning his hands on either side of the lawyer. There was more work to be done to the neck in front of him—both on the damp side and the much dryer side—so he resumes his worship. Sonny’s lips pucker at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and he suckles and licks the skin underneath him. Rafael lets out a soft “oh” and curls his hands. Sonny hums at the grip and encourages its placement by moving under his palm and pressing his teeth on his throat.

“Yes. Keep going.” Rafael turns his head, showing off more of his neck and giving him more room, and lets out a sigh that sounds like a coil of tension has finally been released. “Mark me.”

“You sure?” Sonny moves away and admires the freshly wet expanse of skin. It is getting terribly bare. And he would hate to tease his bed partner with the possibility of a hickey without committing to it.

Rafael glances down at him, and the desire burns in his eyes as an inferno. “Please.”

Sonny shifts quickly, Rafael tilting his head to the other side, and dives in. The left side of his throat is new to him tonight, previously disregarded for the opposite side and it’s only slightly disappointing that the skin is dry. Sonny, determined to change this, licks a clean strip up the meat of his neck and traces along his pulse with his incisors. He drags his teeth down until he reaches a spot that would be hidden from the rest of the world and bites down firmly. Rafael arches into it with a quiet gasp, patting his head encouragingly and groaning. His knee knocks against Sonny’s when he wraps his lips around the skin and sucks inward.

“Shit.” Rafael moans, either too distracted to be embarrassed at the vulgar sound or too unabashed to care how loud he is. The smile in his words and the sentence he utters next encourage Sonny to suckle harder, nuzzle more into him. “No one else will know you marked me up. This is just for us.”

Sonny moves back to check on his work—it’s truly beautiful, the mark glowing red and just starting to bruise. It contrasts prettily against Rafael’s complexion too, even if he’s a firm believer that anything looks good against his skin, but that might contain some biases. He resumes his licking and biting to get a darker color, laughing into it when Rafael keens.

“Sharper.” He puckers his lips and sucks. “Bite it.” He chomps on the mark, using a bit more pressure, but it doesn’t soothe the firm tug around his hair. “Harder, dammit.”

“What’re you getting worked up over?” Sonny asks, intentionally breathing against his skin. The shiver he receives is just what he was hoping for, complete with eyes that almost roll back and parted lips on an airy breath. “I’m just getting started.”

Rafael pinches his arm with a scoff. “Don’t mock me.”

“You’re the one lying back and taking it all in. I’m doing all the work here.” He dips down to nibble at his collar bone. Rafael huffs at his comeback and settles back. Sonny gives him a smile, thankful and reassuring. “Just relax. Feel this. Think about it.” With one last glimpse at his handiwork—a clearly ruffled Rafael, neck wet on one side and blooming on the other—he scoots back and leans on his haunches. “Where now?”

Rafael waves him closer again, hands instantly flying into his hair as if the brief seconds of separation were painful to not have anything to hold. He’s only ever clingy when they’re sleeping—Sonny brought it up to him, once, and remarked on how alike it was to a koala hugging a tree, and Rafael recoiled in disgust at the comparison—but a bubble of affection rises in his chest at the thought of the other man missing the ability to touch him. In this moment, where they only have each other to pay attention to, they should always have each other’s full attention.

(And for the record, Sonny never brought up the koala likeness again, but he didn’t miss how much tighter Rafael’s hugs have gotten when they fall asleep in the same bed. The comparison and the joy, at least to some extent, was not one-sided.)

Rafael guides him to his chest, right above his right nipple. “Here. Right here.” The silent plea punches Sonny in the gut and he gets into position instantly, knees digging into the bed, fists pushing beside Rafael’s hips. The older man looks at him, a minute shiver crawling through him, and Sonny takes the reaction as a good sign. With a deep breath, without breaking eye contact, he bows his head and wraps his tongue around his nipple.

The sound is instantaneous: Rafael exclaims at the contact, the hand in his hair tightening, and he squirms under him. Sonny takes a moment to suck the nub and wrap his tongue around it before he moves back to lap around the surrounding area. He teases his skin with his tongue and nibbles around the area. His weight rests mostly on Rafael, so he eases himself off his hands to hold his side with one hand and caress his firm middle with the other.

Rafael hums at the touch, another smile bleeding into his words. “You’re trying to distract me. God, your mouth—” He gasps when Sonny locks his teeth around his nipple and tugs. His voice is breathy, needling on the wanton desire that Sonny knows they can produce. Just a little more. “Best I’ve ever felt. The way you flick your tongue and press your lips against me.” He thumps his head against his pillow with a grunt. “Fuck.”

Sonny’s hands roam over Rafael’s body while he occupies himself with teasing his chest with the flat of his tongue and point of his canines. There’s something naturally enticing about the ADA—his ego, his words, his fashion sense, among a few things—and his physical form is no exception to Sonny. His hands meet brown curls of hair that start at the center of his chest in waves and end in a dark cluster at his navel. There’s a faint scar on his side that might have been from the ulcers Rafael apparently earned at Harvard. He is firm and sturdy and strong, a tower that stands taller than his natural height allows. Sonny admires the dip of his hips and the meat of his thighs, representing the diligence and gutsy character he was known for.

When he moves back to catch his breath and ease his tongue, he presses his ear against his sternum and listens for the solid beats that he knows will greet him. He relishes in the discovery; so few think of the mighty Rafael Barba as a person who experiences emotions or human experiences in general. Just like anyone else. He can name with both hands the number of times he’s heard the whispers when Rafael leaves a room or is out of earshot. Sonny is thankful he gets to hear it, to prove the voices wrong and to confirm what he already knew: Rafael cares in his own way; his heart drums like anyone else’s, and he uses the beats to prove a point.

“Stargazing?” Rafael asks, all bite and jest. His hand has refused to leave Sonny’s hair. Previously clutching onto it, he pets it gently now, pausing now and again to rest between the strands of silver and dark blond.

“Just thinking,” Sonny hums. He presses a kiss to the nipple previously ignored, not missing the sated murmur rolling from Rafael’s throat. He knows they can both go a few more rounds of teasing, but admiring him—staring at him, thinking about the privilege of being trusted enough to see Rafael without his armor on—has reignited the carnal urges lurking inside him. “I want to take you.”

“Christ.” Rafael laughs quietly under his breath. “Right to the point, I see.”

Sonny shrugs and sits up. The hand in his hair flops down his chest, though not without a protesting frown, as he leans over to open the drawer and pull out a condom and their lube. He immediately notices the arms that wrap around his waist, the hands roaming his backside and plucking at his ass. The image of a koala pops into his head, a typical reaction of antsy palms and clingy hands, but he shuts it down. Any more of that and he’d slip up and end this whole night for them. Instead, Sonny just chuckles and warms up a squirt of lube on his fingers. The hands sit at his thighs now, one of them tracing circles into his skin and raising goosebumps. “What can I say? Hearing all those sounds you made, watching you crumble under me.” He leans down and pecks his stomach softly. “I wanna bury myself inside you.”

Rafael smiles, a sight that is truly content with his place for the evening, relaxed and accepting. “Does that mean you’re done worshipping my chest?”

Sonny smirks and rearranges himself; his slicked fingers poke softly at Rafael’s ass while he kneels over the rest of his body and hovers above his other, much more ignored nipple. “I never said that.” The soft breath that falls on the abandoned nub wracks his body with a chill, and Sonny assures the motion with a flick of his tongue. “I’m happy we both agreed gags were a waste of our time.”

Rafael chuckles. His hips shimmy when Sonny pushes his finger forward and works on stretching him. If there’s any discomfort, he hides it well, his eyes shut and breath even. “So am I. Though I can be up for the challenge.”

“Maybe another time. Not now, though.”

“Not a chance.” Rafael winces at a firm thrust of a digit, and Sonny pauses instantly, matching the jab with soft kisses on his chest. His response is an amused snort and a pat to his nape. “You’re fine. Keep going.”

He waits a few seconds, for his own sake, before he resumes the push of his finger and the prod in his entrance. Sonny makes up for the momentary roughness of his hands by sliding his tongue over his other nipple. Each time he gently pushes his finger forward, he sucks the nub or entraps the edges with his teeth. The noises are just what he hopes to hear, wet and throaty and pleased. Rafael holds his hair, whether it’s for encouragement or the easiest form of stability that he can get.

It’s all Sonny could ask for. Slow thrusts, airy cries, the slightest shift of his body; Rafael hikes his leg so that he can better frame him. When he bucks down into his hand, Sonny hums at the growing lack of resistance inside his entrance. He won’t make another move until he knows Rafael is truly comfortable. So he honors the skin under his mouth, he listens to the sounds dripping out of thin lips, and he relishes in the comforting fingers running through his hair.

“Can I add another finger?” He asks, burrowing the question into his chest. He mouths above the beat of his heart and feels more than hears the sigh that Rafael lets out. When the “yes” falls out, breathy and light, Sonny shifts up so he can hover over his neck, exhale right over the pretty red mark on his throat. “Christ, Rafael. You feel amazing.”

Rafael chuckles, his clutch constricting around the top of his head. “You know how to use your hands. All the right spots. God, it’s like you’re reading a map.” The tug on his hair tells Sonny he wants to look at him, and when he raises his head, the affection pours out of bright hazel eyes that gleam from the soft emotion. A faint smile appears on his face, reflecting the sentiment in his words. “Your eyes are incredible. I can’t believe we took so long to get here.”

Sonny hides his reaction into Rafael’s neck, unable to bear the weight of his words and risk embarrassing himself. At the very least, he gets a reassuring squeeze around his back that spreads a tingling warmth under his skin. “I get it. Sometimes, this feels like a dream I’m about to wake up from.” He pulls back to look down at Rafael, sharing the same fondness in his gaze. “But we’re here now. That’s what matters. If we didn’t take so long, we wouldn’t be here.”

Rafael simply smiles. His eyes shut when the second finger enters, and his shoulders roll over the soft blue sheets. “You’ve been thinking about this. You were quick to the punch.” A shudder runs through his body and up his spine. Sonny burrows his nose against the curve of his jaw, pecking and sighing at every inch of skin that crosses his path. “I can still feel your teeth on my neck. Probably feel it tomorrow. And the day after.” It takes both hands to guide Sonny to his lips, and he dives into the kiss with thirsty lips and a tongue already familiar with his body. “I don’t want it any other way.”

Sonny marvels, for a brief second, how electric the atmosphere is between them without their usual rush of lust and their race to see how much they could devour before their climaxes. The only thing they’ve lost is the chase and high emotions, and while their feelings are still strong, their pace is slower, more careful to take in each moment and every word. It’s dizzying—exhilarating—and sucks the breath straight out of his lungs.

The fingers pull apart to stretch Rafael open, and his hips drop against the digits for more. Sonny shares a satisfied cry with his bed partner; their voices are different, and their expression affects the volume and pitch of the sound, but the same well of emotions is there. Rafael chants out a “yes” with each thrust and spread. When Sonny’s fingers launch against his prostate, he gasps, mouth agape and falling silent. The pleasure overwhelms him—how beautiful, strands of hair clinging to his forehead, his hand holding the base of his cock, legs rising almost on their own to tighten around him. And Sonny can’t help but run his mouth.

“So beautiful. God, Raf, you look incredible.” He smiles into his shoulder, rubbing his inner walls thoroughly and giving a kind nudge to the sensitive nerves. The last thing he wants to do is harm him, so he reminds himself to be consistent and thorough in preparing him. “Don’t hold back anything. You don’t have to hide from me.”

“I don’t want this to end.” Rafael, chest heaving and pupils blown wide, tightens his hold on his cock. The leaking member stands tall, stained with white droplets and shining red. “I want you inside me.” Sonny groans into his shoulder, burrowing his face against the muscle there, and just about pulls himself together. He bites into him when he eases the pressure of his fingers, adds a third finger, and pushes forward. Rafael yells and throws his head back onto the pillow. “Please, Sonny.”

“Fuck me.” Sonny reaches blindly for the condom, nearly falling off the bed to grab it, and fumbles with the wrapper before he rips it open with his teeth. The groan beneath him does not fall on deaf ears, but it’s safer to not let Rafael know he heard it. He lets the rubber fall out of its package and starts to pull his hand out to slide it on, but a taut hand seizes his wrist and pulls it away.

“Let me do it.” Rafael is panting, simultaneously wound up from the shocks of pleasure flowing through his body and worn down from the teasing at Sonny’s hands. A dichotomy of emotions that might not always get the chance to be boasted or shared. His eyes shine with a silent plea, and he doesn’t even think about not giving in.

Without a second thought, without hesitation, Sonny drops the condom in Rafael’s open hand and adjusts his legs to give him better access. The lawyer shifts forward as well, and he starts to try and roll it on his cock, but Sonny teases the outer edge of his prostate and causes him to skid forward and clench on his fingers. “Whoops.” His smile says just how intentional the gesture was.

Rafael huffs and puts it on, his lips twitching up in a smirk. The squeeze he adds around the head of his cock is just as deliberate, and Sonny fails to clamp down a joyful cry. “‘Whoops’ yourself.”

Sonny laughs under his breath, nuzzling his neck, just over the bright mark, and he slips his fingers out with a few extra thrusts of the slicked digits. Rafael rolls his hips, bordering on impatient, and he drags him down for a heated kiss, all tongue and slow morphs over his lips. The second Sonny slicks up his cock and pushes it against Rafael’s entrance, they break apart, sharing breaths and heavy gazes. Sonny doesn’t have to think hard about a hidden meaning. There’s deep affection, giant swirls of it making a mess of hazel green.

In one fell swoop, he eases himself in, and Rafael digs his nails into Sonny’s arms. His moan erupts from the back of his throat; when he bottoms out, his ankles lock in the small of his back and hold him in place. The two of them maintain eye contact—Sonny resting his elbows on either side of his head, running through his hair; Rafael clawing at his skin, the faintest of smiles on his face. His voice is warm but swirling with crumbling arousal. “Your dick is huge.”

He answers with a chuckle and a compliment of his own. “Thanks. Your legs feel nice.” He punctuates his words by nuzzling against him, unable to control the bright grin on his face. “I’m definitely not going anywhere.”

“Good. I don’t want you to leave.” Rafael flexes his hand against his back, eyes shutting and a soft purr tumbling from his mouth. “I can feel you swelling inside me.”

Shit. Sonny chokes on his words and lets the euphoric sensation clutch his heart. He can feel the heat radiating from Rafael’s body, the shift of his body under him, the surface of his palms across his back. Each heave of air, each sigh of satisfaction, radiates from him and makes his vision spin. He has an incredible man lying with him, who worships his body for its lean figure as much as his own sturdy form is honored, who picks at his defense for a witty quip with the full intention of getting one back.

Sonny thrusts once, just to experiment how much he can do, and the moan Rafael lets out is lewd and soaking in lust. “There you go. Just like that.”

“How do you want it?” He doesn’t mean to make the question sound so desperate for a reply, but he is determined to pleasure this man. Anything Rafael asks, he’ll follow through, and it’s both terrifying and exhilarating to know that one person could cause a reaction like that. He can’t remember the last time he felt this way.

“Nice and slow.” Rafael bites his lower lip, his hips squirming uneasily, and Sonny realizes it’s out of shyness, a general fear of what his words mean and their interpretation. They haven’t been so open before, at least not in this way, and definitely not when they set boundaries around themselves. But there must be something that gets him to continue—a fondness, maybe, or an encouraging flicker in his expression. Either way, Rafael sounds more akin to the confidence he has associated with his name. “I want to feel everything you do. Every thrust inside.” He takes a deep breath, sighs, and curls his fingers as he adds, “I want to feel you.”

Sonny can only nod. The confirmed statement he supplies—“of course, yes, of course, Rafael”—he barely registers despite embracing every emotion that comes with the approval. He feels like he’s floating out of his body, his physical connection with Rafael his only touch with reality, the eye contact with that striking shade of jade capturing his attention. When he starts to move his hips, Rafael’s legs tighten around him, his firm thighs pressing against him. The contact flares under his skin like a fire being ignited, trilling over his body and searing into him. Rafael consumes him—he is all he hears, all he feels, all he tastes. And there’s so much more to give and take.

Rafael throws his head back and lets out a deep, long sigh. “Hell yes. You feel incredible. You’re stretching me so well, gonna make me feel you for days.” He smiles, distracted by a muse he doesn’t share. “God. I thought this feeling was something that happened when you’re a dumb college student.”

“What feeling?” Sonny asks, breathless, running a hand through soft brown locks.

His reply comes in the form of a gentle smile and quiet chuckle. “I can’t think of being with anyone else. There’s no way they could make me feel this way. Not like you do.” He brings a hand up to caress Sonny’s cheek, tracing his cheekbone with his thumb, and he jolts at a thrust. His lips part automatically for the sound, all contentment and minutes from overflowing. “You’re smart, you’re quick, you’re intuitive.” The smirk and snicker come all too easy for him. Sonny wouldn’t have him any other way. “I’m not trying to inflate your ego. But you’ve set the bar so high, I can’t imagine finding happiness anywhere else.”

Happiness. They’ve talked about the concept before—on an intellectual level, sometimes professional, within the confines of work. But they all did: he’d heard Fin’s inquiries into Amanda’s personal life, all friendly conversation, and her advice about chasing happiness that’s healthy for her and her future; when Amaro came to visit last year, tan from the sun’s rays in California and smiling wider than ever, he detailed how the hardest thing he ever did, and what he saw others do, was deny happiness that benefitted their own person and no one else’s; Rafael’s own comments were more ambiguous and cynical, something about it being a black hole that sucked in anyone it could, removing their happiness for itself, and then spitting them out so they could find a new desire and feed it again. But for a partner—for him, Sonny Carisi, no one else—for any other human being to be addressed with the word?

If he wasn’t tender from Rafael before, whether it be from his actions or his words, he certainly is now. Sonny moves slow and easy into him, setting an easy rhythm of rocking sways that are meant to gradually build up. So far, judging by the pleased whines and whispers of “yes” in his ear, and the rapid beating of his own heart, it’s working. He keeps eye contact between them as best he can, and when Rafael bucks his body or throws his head back, he kisses his chin and neck and cheek. Every time he bows his head, freed strands from his mousse dangling onto his chest, Rafael pecks his forehead and the top of his head. A courtesy, but a sign of their affection.

“Every time you thrust back in,” Rafael sighs, the sound cut off by a whine, “it’s like I’m feeling you for the first time.”

“Please don’t stop talking,” Sonny groans. Another squeeze of legs, a thrust that backs out and eases back in, and his point is made. His knees tremble against the bed from the pressure around his dick and the paralleling scratch along his back and bicep.

“I don’t plan on it. Don’t worry.” He pulls him close, hot puffs falling on the shell of his ear, and whispers, “I wouldn’t dream of it, not when you’re thrusting into me like this. I can feel your dick in my throat.” Sonny practically collapses against him; Rafael snorts and rubs the back of his head for comfort. “Was that too much for you?”

“It’s not enough.” Sonny kisses the hickey on his neck. “I can listen to you talk all day.”

“Mm. Put your hand on my dick.” The request is filled, quick enough that Sonny barely thinks about it before the sentence is complete, and the pleasured cry washes over them. “Yeah. Your mouth isn’t the only impressive thing about you. I bet you’d jerk cocks off all day, if you could.”

He shakes his head—delirious, drowning in the words—and whimpers. Each time Rafael opens his mouth, Sonny’s gut surges forward and churns for more. “No. Only you. I don’t want it to be anyone but you.”

Rafael’s hum in reply sounds more like a suppressed laugh. “I’m flattered.” He pauses, breathes in when Sonny picks up his pace, and his hands push on his shoulders to hold him properly above him. For a moment, his motive is unclear, but Sonny hits his prostate and watches his body be wrack with pleasure. Rafael bucks and writhes, back arching while his legs push him further inside, gasping for air that leaves his lungs as quickly as he replaces it. Sonny holds his position, rolling against his prostate, and Rafael’s hands are going to bruise his arms with how tightly he holds onto him.

“Holy shit,” Sonny breathes. The eyes in front of him glint with desperation, flash with desire and a plea for a little more, just a few more thrusts. He doubts he’ll be able to stop the climax that rises from his legs, curls his toes, and coils in a puddle of warmth in his stomach. And even if he wanted to, there’s no way he would. Not when Rafael looks so satisfied, built up from the teases, pleading through sounds and gestures and a single inhale—

He thinks about green fields, warm smiles hidden under coy words, the brush of a touch that leaves him despite his silent pleas to stay for just a little longer.

* * *

“I gotta question for you.”

Rafael looks up from the ice cream they’re sharing—they fought over the same carton and settled for combining it and the remains of another for the ultimate treat—and tilts his head. The loose pajama shirt he had put on does not match his pants, but it still looks nice. Sonny thinks it’s important that he gets to see a side of him that isn’t aiming to impress anyone and is simply focused on enjoying himself over a bowl of ice cream “Fire away.”

Sonny chews idly on the stem of the cherry he had bit off. He had already tried to tie it with his tongue. (He couldn’t. At least Rafael had been amused by it.) “If I were a dog, what breed would I be?”

Rafael snorts. “If you’re trying to tell me something about yourself, you should just cut to the chase.”

“No, I’m just wondering, jeez. It’s nothing weird.” Cashew skirts by, chasing after one of her toys that slides across the floor. Rafael watches her with a fond smile. “Amanda called me a golden retriever today.”

The way he shrugs and bites the inside of his cheek tells Sonny just how much he agrees with it before he even opens his mouth. “Do you want me to agree or disagree with it?”

Sonny reaches over and tugs the bowl of ice cream closer to him. Even with the disapproving glare Rafael gives him, it’s definitely worth it. “Objection, argumentative.”

“You’re the one committing grand larceny.” Rafael digs his spoon into the remains of the ice cream and pulls it back between them. Sonny lets him, for now, at least. “If I had to decide on a breed, I would say yes, you’re a golden retriever.”

“That’s all I needed.” Sonny points his spoon at him and nearly spills ice cream on the counter from his waving. “Was that so difficult for you?”

“Absolute torture.” Rafael licks the back of his spoon and winks. Sonny wills himself to behave. “Do I have a dog breed you associate with me?”

Sonny pauses, thinking over the question and going through the various dog breeds in his head. He didn’t expect them to get this far in their friendly conversation. After making a slow, quiet mess of each other, and after Rafael held him in a vice grip for thirty minutes, they got up and rearranged themselves accordingly. Initially, Sonny had been prepared to leave, now that his sexual purpose had been fulfilled, but he was distracted by the soft lips in front of him, and the hands holding his face and arms (which definitely have indents from both nails and tips), and the mouth that prodded him with quips and taunts and laughs that linger under his breath. What was he to do?

Rafael breaks him out of his thoughts with a snicker. “I wasn’t serious. You don’t have to think that hard.”

Sonny shakes his head. “I want to. I wanna give you an answer.” He drops his spoon off in the bowl and leans forward. “So, poodles are considered these froo-froo dogs, with the dumb haircuts around the legs and head, but they’re super smart.” Rafael nods at him to continue, equal parts listening intensely and growing concerned. “And people stereotype pit bulls as being this aggressive breed, but only a select amount of people make them mean. And it’s more a problem with people and dogfighting than the dogs themselves.”

“I didn’t expect you to be so serious about it. But,” the corners of his lips twist up impishly, “I don’t disagree.”

“Thanks.” A comfortable silence falls between them, broken up only by Rafael standing and putting the bowl in the sink. Cashew hops onto his chair now empty chair and peeks over the counter at her human, who just scoffs and chides her for trying to sneak up. Sonny holds out his hand, and the calico nudges her head under his fingers for a scratch. “If I didn’t have work early tomorrow, I’d take your offer and stay.”

“I understand.” Rafael pours himself another glass of wine, offering a refill to Sonny, who shakes his head and stands. The lawyer walks him to the front door with a wistful sigh. “Maybe next time.”

“Speaking of which,” Sonny shrugs his jacket on and kneels to put his shoes on, “I was thinking, for the next time we meet up, I could try dominating.”

“Is that what you want?”

Sonny nods and stands again, looking Rafael in the eye to get a read on him. He seems intrigued, for sure, evident by the spark in his eyes and quirk of his lips. “I would like to try it out with you.”

“Hm.” Rafael nods, glancing at the wall and taking a sip of wine from his glass. “I’ve thought of it.”

“I mean, you can’t spell ‘Dominick’ without ‘dom,’ right? I think I can do it.”

The smile he gives is softer than before, and he reaches forward with his free hand to hold his hand. Sonny squeezes back with reassurance—he isn’t going to do anything without Rafael’s full and confirmed consent—and a brief thought of thanks that their relationship has lasted this long. Even if he leaves with a heavy drop of his gut and the wish to bury himself in Rafael’s sheets and koala hugs, even if he lingers a bit too long against his body and his lips, he can at least plan for the next time they’ll spend a night—or day—exploring the familiar terrain of his body and recording every sound that plays from his lips.

Next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I add the "slow burn" tag to this fic or am I just going insane: a novel


	5. How to Submit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “My plan is to show you how to submit by making you think about everything I do in the nicest way possible.” Rafael tries not to jump at the brush of fingers over his shoulder or the soft tap of his shoes against hardwood. He’s determined not to lose Sonny’s location, and he follows it as much as he can. “You have to focus on me. What I’m doing to you, how I’m doing it, why I chose to do it. If it goes well, and you give in, I promise to give you whatever you want.”
> 
> Rafael licks his lips. “And if it doesn’t work?”
> 
> “Well. As long as you’re not uncomfortable, we’ll keep trying,” he whispers close to his ear, breath hot against the shell, “until you get it right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Red Light Special" by TLC is the main motivation of a majority of the chapter but listen "Boys" by Lizzo is just *chef's kiss* just as good
> 
> I was motivated by both the season 21 premiere (which I have yet to watch BUT LISTEN SONNY DESERVES THE WORLD OKAY) and this being the first idea I had for this fic that made me write this. So here we are, the quickest update and longest chapter so far at 11k words, and it's ~saucy~ ohoho
> 
> Shout out, again, to soul_writerr and mforpaul for their encouragement and overall support of this story, especially this chapter. I've really enjoyed getting to know you and everyone else in the Barisi Twitter fandom and cannot put into words how much it means to me <3 
> 
> I added some new tags for this chapter, but just in case: there's some mild bondage through this chapter and some overstimulation at the end

The next time comes a few weeks later, at the very beginning of February.

It comes after two weekdays that had them rutting against each other in the bathroom and a Monday riding ordeal. Since he isn’t the one who has to organize everything, Rafael is simply waiting for the younger man to set things in motion. It hurts a part of him that he doesn’t have control, but there’s something reassuring about giving into Sonny that soothes any concern he may have. He knows he’s in good hands. It’s the wait that is actually bothering him.

Rafael had tried to bring it up once: when they were alone, before Carmen was in, when Sonny brought in a large coffee to make up for him wearing The Tie. He wasn’t going to bring it up, but seeing that tie without a warning made his decision for him. Rafael asked him, boldly, how his planning was going. Sonny only smirked and wished him a good day. He didn’t ask anything after that, resigned to the fact that he’d only get a similar response.

And then, a few days later, he gets a text from the detective. Curt and professional and straight to the point.

_ How do you feel about rope? _

Rafael waited until he was out of his meeting—with Liv and Fin, Sonny’s coworkers/superiors, of all people—and alone to reply. _ You’re lucky we didn’t get these phones from our work. _

_ Answer the question, Counselor. _

The second text comes immediately after his response, and his stomach plummets. Sonny’s first text conveys the obvious undertone of dominance, but the second one confirms it and solidifies its presence between them. He was smart to read it alone because his pants are definitely tighter and there’s a pleasant rush of heat under his cheeks. He responds:

_ I like it. Very much. _

Carmen knocks on his door with an inquiry from a defense attorney and a request to reschedule a meeting for a prosecutor, and Rafael gets back to work. He can only hope that he finds out what’s going to happen soon, for both of their sakes.

* * *

_ Wednesday night. My place. I want you in the apartment by 6. Dinner will be served. Don’t touch yourself beforehand. _

_ What happens if I do? _

_ Hopefully, we won’t have to go that far. _

_ Interesting. I hope you deliver, Carisi. _

_ No names. Detective or Counselor. _

_ So you’re a dom in the psychological sense. Everything makes sense. _

_ For your sake, I hope that’s an observation and not a criticism. _

_ That’s for you to decide. _

_ Your mouth is snarky. You’re lucky I enjoy it. _

_ You’re lucky to hear it. _

* * *

Rafael follows the orders given to him. He arrives at Sonny’s apartment at 5:45 and, seeing the door propped open, beckoning him with a strong aroma, steps inside. Even though the temptation to disobey weighed on his mind, he decides that fulfilling the request to not touch himself will give him a better reward. Sonny is in the kitchen, apron tied around his waist, stirring what can only be pasta while a sauce simmers on the opposite burner. He doesn’t turn around when Rafael enters. In fact, he barely reacts, focused on the food while Rafael removes his coat and walks over. He stops at the dining room table, waiting for Sonny to notice him more than anything else. Cooking is Sonny’s happy place, and he isn’t going to startle him out of it.

Sonny still keeps his gaze away from him, reaching into the cupboard to grab two bowls. But his voice—firm, cold, and detached—acknowledges his presence. “Do you always barge into people’s homes?”

Rafael blinks, astonished more than anything at the accusation, and struggles to find his voice. “Sorry?”

“You didn’t knock.” He removes the pasta from the heat, drains it in the sink, and turns to check on the sauce. He tests the taste quietly. “Looks like I have more to teach you than I thought.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” He starts to pull out a chair, but the uncharacteristic glare from bright blue eyes stops him. It’s the first time he’s made eye contact, and it’s chilling. “What, am I not allowed to sit?”

“You’re so snippy today.” He pours the pasta into the pot of sauce and mixes it while reaching into another cabinet to pull out two wine glasses. One is definitely wider than the other; it can only indicate the different types of wine being offered tonight, but whether or not he’ll be allowed to have either is unknown. This whole night, so far, has been in Sonny’s hands, and he has revealed as little information as possible to the lawyer. Rafael trusts him to not cross his comfort zone, not just because their affair has gone on for long enough that they know each other’s preferences, but of all the partners he’s had, Sonny has done the most to pleasure and care for him, and for the best reasons.

After stirring the pasta in the sauce and pouring a glass of Chardonnay and Barbaresco, the latter which is definitely a reference to his name, Sonny lets him sit and serves him the white wine and the bowl of penne alla vodka. He silently sits across from him and doesn’t say anything else, forcing them to eat in silence. Rafael focuses more on getting through the meal, a strange itch of impatience making his feet tap idly against the linoleum tiles. It’s only when they’ve finished eating, Rafael throwing back the rest of his wine, and Sonny settles the persona for a moment to address their plans.

“Tonight, I want to teach you how to submit.”

If he hadn’t already drained his wine, he might have choked on it in shock. Rafael simply nods and spins the stem of his glass between his fingers. He wants to hear the rest of it before he comments, so he wills himself to be patient and listen.

Sonny crosses his arms and sits up. “I want to tie you to a chair and tease you until you’re begging me to take you. Not for you to come, not to touch you, for me to take you. Whatever it takes—with your permission—but only when you’ve had enough. I want to use rope, a blindfold, and a dildo, but I won’t use anything that you don’t want. I’m focused on making you feel good.”

“Christ, Counselor.” Rafael can’t help but smile at that, or else revert to groaning audibly and just asking Sonny to take him now. He gets a pleased smirk for the title and a simper. “You have it all planned out.”

“I want to be thorough. It’s not easy to give yourself up like that, no matter who it is.” Something flashes in his eyes—something dark, maybe understanding—before it vanishes. “The last thing I want to do, though, is to make you uncomfortable.”

“I trust you.” He says it with full sincerity, his heart thrumming in his chest. Rafael has explored submissive positions before, and while he may be interested in what else they have to offer, he never embraced them or reached their fullest potential. The partners he had either never impressed him or were not worth trusting. Sonny, on the other hand…

“Whatever you want, I can do for you,” Sonny says. His arms relax and fall on the table. The way he sits isn’t any different, but the curve of his back when he shifts forward and the sharpness of his eyes are much more intense than any other time they’ve met up. Dominance looks good on him. “I’m in charge, but I don’t do anything without your approval.”

He shrugs. “I like your plan.” Rafael spins the wine glass and smirks at him. “The prosecution rests.”

A layer of tension weakens, much to his surprise, and he nods firmly. “Good.” Sonny stands up, the quickness of it telling Rafael that he has to follow. Or maybe it’s some deeply veiled desire to please him and be praised for it. Maybe he’ll find out what that’s about. “Let’s get started.”

Something about taking the dominant role has made Sonny taller; the lines on his face are sharper, his spine is straighter, and his overall demeanor is harder, firmer. He could tell Rafael to fall into the sun, and he wouldn’t waste a second doing it. How terrifying. Anything Sonny needs, Rafael will do, and the nagging thought of what that means—and if his bed partner feels the same—is only getting more daunting. Soon enough, there won’t be any time left to speculate. Just the time to do something about it.

Sonny’s bedroom isn’t new to Rafael by a longshot—the familiarity of the burgundy bed and the silvery-white walls prove it—but the chair in the middle of the room is. He knows it from its spot at the desk in the corner, the armrests usually tucked under it but presented to him with clear intentions. On its seat are a bundle of rope and the one piece of cloth that Rafael hadn’t expected, the one that caused such a fuss when it was worn a week after its unintended purpose. The Tie is neatly folded next to the rope, a clear indication that it will have a use tonight. An unopened bottle of lube and a condom are on the bed, leaned against a rosy pink dildo and two water bottles. Even with the plan in motion, Rafael can’t help but let his mouth run.

“Did you get this just for me?” Rafael teases, picking up the bundle of rope to feel the cords. Definitely soft, thick enough for a strong bind but thin enough to break with a blade in case of an emergency. A thrill runs up Rafael’s spine at the thought of using it.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Counselor” Sonny chides. He takes the rope out of his hand, surprisingly gentle for how fierce his tone is, and replaces it with The Tie. “I needed it for other things.”

“Not just mouthy prosecutors.” Rafael pairs the smarmy remark with a sly wink. He already knew before he came over that Sonny would have his work cut out for him; Rafael Barba never gave in without a fight, and that included being submissive. He truly would have to learn how to submit, but if he had Sonny to teach him and guide him through it, there was no way it would be unenjoyable. “You sure you don’t wanna gag me?”

Sonny reaches up to trace a stray hair hanging from his forehead. The touch is brief, just enough to scrape over his skin, and Rafael bites back a shiver. “Hearing you beg is a better idea to me than not hearing you at all.” Sonny captures his lips in a searing kiss, holding his chin and pulling him onto the tips of his toes. To Rafael, it feels like he’s just far enough to not get the full extent of the kiss, devoid of the pleasant flutter in his gut and replaced with a stark contrast. Without the complete contact, the committed press of his mouth, Rafael might as well be going through a dry spell.

An insistent hand pushes him away and removes any contact from him. Rafael starts to reach for him again, but there’s a tight hold suddenly on his wrists and a rigid tone from above. “You’ve had enough for now. Strip.”

“You’re not going to indulge me?” Rafael starts to undress, discarding his clothes neatly on the bed behind him, going slow for a wry tease to the demand.

Sonny is unimpressed; he unfurls the rope and snips off some strands with a pair of scissors he grabs from the dresser, scowling as he does. “You’re not in charge. I don’t have to do anything for you.”

“I beg to differ.” He lets his suspenders fall off his shoulders with an audible slap against his thighs. “You have all these gifts for me. Unless you’re seeing someone else, your argument is invalid.”

With a snort, Sonny tosses the remainder of the rope on the bed and gathers the cut strands. “Get undressed and sit in the damn chair.”

Rafael unbuttons his pants and lowers them slowly, shaking his hips to entice him more than to remove the clothes. The one flaw in the plan is that he’s as thirsty for Sonny to tie him to the chair than Sonny must be to secure him to it, so he swiftly undresses and gets comfortable. The difference in their states is stark—Sonny standing and distant, Rafael sitting and floating farther from him, the space between them trapping the tension and building it to be more frustrating for later. His throat instantly runs dry at the thought, of being able to fully give himself up to this man without a second thought.

When Sonny steps forward, a smirk flickers on his face and he chuckles quietly. “Good boy.” Rafael is surprised by the leap his stomach makes and swallows roughly at the nickname. He isn’t as offended by the youthful implication of the sound, and it’s certainly surprising to hear it directed at him. And from Sonny, who already proved himself as a good boy, it can only be complimentary. He steps closer and raises Rafael’s chin up with the side of his finger. “I’m going to tie your ankles and wrists to the chair. Do you still want this?”

“Yes.” Rafael drags out a sigh, his eyes fluttering shut. “More than anything.”

He gets a forehead kiss for his approval, and Sonny gets to work. He bends down to deal with his ankles first. Sonny guides his left ankle to the leg of the chair and wraps a strand of rope around it, spinning it around twice and tying it off. He looks up when he finishes, rubbing his leg soothingly. “How’s that? Not too tight?”

“Perfect.” He flexes his foot to prove his point. Just as he thought, the rope is snug against him but comfortable. If (and, perhaps, when) he pulls on it, the cord might bite into his skin, but he feels secure in both the chair and in Sonny’s hands.

Sonny nods, a characteristic smile appearing for a brief second, still bright and calming, and he does the same to his other ankle. Rafael tests them while he prepares the armrest: definitely a solid bind but, surprisingly, he isn’t frightened or taken aback by its presence. Sonny finishes tying rope to both armrests, knotting them and allowing two strands to hang, ready to hold him down. The strands he cut are much longer for his wrists, but the way he ties them, keeping half of them for Rafael’s wrists, tells him he’s planning on keeping him adhered to the chair. “Put your wrists up here for now”

No polite request, although if anyone was going to be begging tonight, it’d probably be Rafael. Which, in all honesty, isn’t normal with him, but they were having a lot of firsts lately. “I think you’re missing something.”

“I don’t think I need it, but if you think otherwise, you can prove it to me.”

Rafael purses his lips and says nothing else. The curious tease of that icy blue gaze nearly uproots his stance, but he holds back, just enough. Instead, with a long sigh, he rests his arms against the armrests, letting them sit on the rope so that he can still grip the knots of wood at the end.

“Was that so difficult?”

“Absolutely miserable.” The longer strand of rope is wrapped around his wrist twice before it’s tied off and secures his wrist to the armrest, although Rafael notices it’s a bit more comfortable than the ones on his ankles. He’s curious for the placement of his hands, almost expecting them to be behind his back, but it might be easier on his shoulders and spine. He can roll his shoulders a little and move without pulling on the rope or straining himself. If they end up going for a longer time than planned, it would probably start to hurt.

His other hand is tied off to the chair, and with the final knot in place, Rafael is bound to the chair, naked and growing hard, his only form of freedom through the man who keeps his distance and eyes him with concentration, like a carnivore deciding where to bite into his prey. Sonny is always eager to take whatever Rafael will give him, but now, he’s alit with desire and surging with the confidence of a lion taking his place in the pride.

“How’s this feel?” Sonny asks, standing in front of him and just out of reach. His inability to touch him, his hands so close to the slim body but unable to move closer, is definitely going to drive him crazy.

“Good,” Rafael says, and he means it. Sonny has gone out of his way to ensure his comfort, backing out of his hard exterior while he extends to an area they haven’t experimented with before. And somehow, without the dominant presence, there is hardly a change in atmosphere. He wants everything Sonny has planned as much as he did before.

Sonny returns to the bed, backing out of his direct line of sight, and reappears with The Tie flowing between his fingers. “You know what this is.” The hardened core of his voice is back, clenching the light tone and shading it to be more rigid. “You tied my wrists with this a few weeks ago.”

“I did.” Rafael glances up at him to gauge his reaction. “If you want, I can do it again.”

“I’d love to see you try.” He tightens his fists on either end and pulls it taut. Rafael’s gut lurches. “I’m going to use it as your blindfold.” His cock swells, a small drop of precome spilling from the tip. For a moment, he hopes it goes unnoticed, but the impish quirk of Sonny’s lips tells him otherwise. “You’re very excited, I see.”

“You can say that.” Rafael takes in as much of Sonny as he can while he’s still able to see: his tall frame outlined with the light from the living room, his vest undone, shirt sleeves rolled up, his coif soft and flowy like a gleaming field of silver. Still beautiful. “You’ve kept all of this secret from me, so pardon me for finally having some reward.”

“This won’t be your reward. Trust me.” Sonny steps closer, the softness returning for a split second. “Are you ready?” Rafael nods, and he’s only a little surprised at the disappointed glare. “You’re not very good at submitting.”

“Maybe you should get to teaching already and stop judging me.” Of course he wants to hear him say “yes.” He learned from the best.

“That’s not a verbal affirmation.”

Rafael bites back another retort and resigns himself to listening to the demand. He shifts as best he can, the ropes pulling against his wrists and ankles, and he nods. “Yes. You can blindfold me.”

Sonny moves quickly, tying the tie off behind his head and shrouding all light from outside. Almost instantly, Rafael’s sense of touch and hearing spike: Sonny’s breathing is gentle, his fingers sliding across The Tie’s fabric; the blindfold is cool against his face, sitting on the bridge of his nose. When he moves his limbs, the ropes push on his skin as a reminder that he cannot move. He flexes against them to test them, to feel the bind and familiarize himself with it, to remind himself that Sonny will not hesitate to help him if he needs it.

“My plan is to show you how to submit,” he explains, and it has to be his blocked sight that makes his voice so much louder, underlines his accent and blares the crisp tone, “by making you think about everything I do in the nicest way possible.” Rafael tries not to jump at the brush of fingers over his shoulder or the soft tap of his shoes against hardwood. He’s determined not to lose Sonny’s location, and he follows it as much as he can. “You have to focus on me. What I’m doing to you, how I’m doing it, why I chose to do it. If it goes well, and you give in, I promise to give you whatever you want.”

Rafael licks his lips. “And if it doesn’t work?”

“Well. As long as you’re not uncomfortable, we’ll keep trying,” he whispers close to his ear, breath hot against the shell, “until you get it right.”

Fuck. If it wasn’t clear how much he was enjoying it, the guttural moan he releases certainly proves it.

Sonny stands in front of him—he can tell by the way his feet move, circling around him and stopping between his knees—and kisses him. Rafael doubts there’s any air left for him to take, but he’s left breathless all the same. With his limited mobility and sight, he depends on the rest of his senses: Sonny’s cologne, soft and subtle tones, mixed with the remnants of his cooking escapade; the worn palms and warmth of his grasp around his cheeks; the teasing pokes of red wine on a tongue that tames him into soft whines and impatient groans. Rafael takes in as much as he can, unable to watch the other man make a mess of him and unable to wrap himself around his limber form, but determined to take it in where his sight fails.

“Mm,” Sonny hums, moving back but hovering over his lips, “Chardonnay.”

“I thought you hated white wine,” Rafael remarks, more as a taunt than a barb. His words, as always, are all he has.

“It tastes good when it’s mixed with you.” Sonny silences any attempt to respond with that statement to kiss him again. Rafael rears back and dives forward all at once, fingers grappling against the armrests while he chases his mouth. He doesn’t mind the sloppiness, not when he can’t see and has no way of guiding himself. A few times, he slides over Sonny’s chin, across the smooth shaved buzz of his cheek, desperate for anything. Stopping the kiss is not an option, not when he has no idea how long Sonny is planning to leave him in the chair without contact.

As if he can read his thoughts, Sonny moves away, removing any contact and stepping back. Rafael tries to lunge forward and follow him but only shifts his hips and knocks his knees, bound securely and temporarily blind. The only thing he has left are his words, his oldest companions.

“I say this with the knowledge that I already teased you like this,” he pants, “but you’re a jerk.”

Sonny saunters over to the other side of the room, a bit further away but staying in the bedroom. “Do you wanna be good for me or not?”

“I thought I was being pretty good already. At least for my standards.” He receives a simper, nothing more, for his words. That was a good comeback, at least at that moment, and he’s offended at the lack of a verbal reply. He deserved better. “If that hurts your feelings, you haven’t paid attention to anything else I’ve said to you.”

Nothing. Sonny hasn’t moved, confirmed by the lack of movement from his direction; when he did speak, his voice carried around the confines of the bedroom and not outside it. If he had moved, Rafael is sure he would have heard it. He isn’t scared by it as much as he is annoyed. No one got away with ignoring Rafael Barba, and yet here Sonny was, doing exactly that without any repercussions.

“I hope you’re listening to me, Detective. You know better than to ignore me.”

The creeping silence reminds him, almost better than Sonny’s words could have, that he is expected to submit, to give in, to listen to the words clutching his heart that he is here to comply with Sonny’s demands, not to battle them. His lack of sound or any form of a reply is out of patience, not defiance. He’s doing it as a reminder to obey, not to fight. And so he does, to the best of his ability and with a resigned huff: Rafael leans into his binds, accepts the loss of sight, quells his irritation with as much of an image of Sonny as he can. He’s probably been watching him struggle, arms crossed, maybe smirking, wanting to say something for just as long, but his dominance deciding otherwise. At least to himself, he can admit it was a better alternative.

Once Rafael’s stayed still and quiet for a good minute, for what feels like hours to him, footsteps break and Sonny reappears in front of him. He’s petting his hair, all soft touches and thorough reassurances, but his words cut and his tone flares. “There we are. You passed your first lesson. Good boy.” Rafael shivers and keeps quiet. “Sometimes, it’s easier to stay quiet.”

“Is that so,” he murmurs. His voice rises into a croak when a pair of teeth scrape against his neck. If he could lean up, he would be able to buck into Sonny and connect with his shoulder or arm, just enough to satisfy his need. He’d take whatever he could if he had the opportunity.

Sonny nibbles the column of his throat and sucks his way down, pausing at the spot that he had previously marked. The hickey lasted for a week or so, and the pressure Sonny reapplies to that area can only be out of disappointment that it didn’t stay for longer. Rafael would give him the go-ahead to reapply it, but he can barely form the words. His strength is entirely focused on his hands holding the chair, muscles straining, gripping the knots on the armrests to will himself still. He doubts Sonny would move away from him so soon, and right after he proved how good he was—god, he must have a praise kink—but the thought is frightening enough to stop him from doing anything that would separate the other man from him.

“I’m upset the mark is gone,” Sonny whispers to him. The smooth point of his nose is pressed against his neck, burrowed against his skin. Rafael tries to read into his reaction through his breathing, but it’s steady and cool and even, far from what he was looking for. “Looks like I’ll have to give you another one.”

“Yeah,” he sighs.

“Would you like that? Right here,” his teeth suddenly cling to his neck, and Rafael lunges against the ropes, failing to suppress the cry ripped out of him, “just make another hickey right on your pretty neck. Like nothing’s changed.”

Rafael smirks, unable to resist. “You should have done more to keep it there. You had the opportunity between then and now.”

Sonny just scoffs. “It’s my fault your hickey went away? You must not want any rewards, huh.”

“So far, you’re all word and no talk. What am I supposed to believe, Detective?”

There’s a moment of silence, more worrisome for Rafael now than if his sight was present, and then the aura he had been expecting stirs and rises up. A harsh claw of a hand falls on his shoulder, his head is tilted back by wrangling in his hair and reeling back, and the voice that speaks is husky and cold. Exactly what he wanted to hear. Apparently, Sonny could not spell ‘Dominick’ without ‘dom’. “You’re not in charge, Counselor.” There’s a smile in his voice but Rafael knows better; it’s not for him to admire or relish in from the happiness coming from the cave of his dimples and curve of his lips. It’s all teeth and harsh lines. It has to be. “You don’t get to scare me into treating you.”

Rafael sighs, rolling his head out from under Sonny’s grasp, and leans back as much as he can. “Fine. Mark me up again.”

“No.” Sonny backs away, again, and Rafael chokes on an undignified yelp that is nothing but offended. “Did you even listen to what I said?” He gives a quiet “tsk” and steps somewhere to the left. The bed croaks, his voice trailing from somewhere behind him now, and he lets out a long breath like he’s laid back. “How ‘bout you stew for a minute?”

“You’re kidding me.” Rafael flexes against the rope binding him to the chair in an effort to wiggle free, but he knows Sonny wouldn’t have made it easy for him to escape. He doesn’t even want to break free; he just wants his displeasure of being teased and strung out known.

“Nope.”

There’s a soft pattering, a gentle finger tapping along some sort of surface. It can’t be wood or fabric; the sound would be defined or muffled if it was either. It’s clear and subtle, definitely artificial, tinny like plastic. For a moment, Rafael stews in the silence, trying to figure out what the sound is. It’s the only thing he can hear besides his own breathing. He could be paranoid, in his attempt to solidify Sonny’s presence without his voice as a guide, but he knows the detective better than that. Rafael shifts in his chair and tries to think of a deeper meaning than Sonny being a simple tease.

“Counselor,” he calls out, hoping the nickname would warrant some type of reaction in him. He takes the grunt, from the same direction, as a sign to continue. “Are you texting?”

“I had a few missed texts, yeah,” Sonny replies, nonchalant and light and airy. “I figured since I wasn’t doing anything important, I could catch up on it.” There’s a faint metal scrape, which can only be a zipper coming undone, and Rafael has to curl his toes and clutch the chair to stop himself from thrusting into the air. “Maybe I was doing something else.”

“Can I ask what it was?”

“You can see. Oh,” he adds, switching to a light, mocking tone, “sorry. I forgot you were blindfolded.”

Either his shoes had been removed or he was that quiet in coming over, because a warm hand lands on his neck and he flinches at the contact. He settles instantly, sagging into Sonny’s grasp, relieved for contact, no matter how small it was. But the reaction did not go unnoticed, and he feels a tender hand on his knee and the fingers at his nape curl against the short hairs.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I’m okay, don’t worry.” He smiles for proof, surprised by how easy it is to let loose an expression like that around Sonny. “I’ve been listening for you.”

“I bet you were.” A gentle kiss falls on his temple—god, the switch between fiercely domineering and affectionately tender is unnerving. Rafael enjoyed being the one in control; his entire life, he always struggled to be the one on top, and he refuses to miss any opportunity to continue climbing. It’s so natural for him: in their kisses, he leads; even if he’s not the one doing the fucking, he’ll find a way to guide the other to him, to nuzzle their way under him, hung on every word and trembling for an order. Sonny does not default to that. He doesn’t mind being bossed around, because he can dish it right back, and Rafael lets him—has let him, will let him. He has flowed so well, so flawlessly into the role of the commander, Rafael’s disappointed in himself for taking this long to notice. “Did you learn anything when I left you?”

Rafael nods. “Yes.” He swallows roughly. _ Fuck. _ “I am not in charge. You are. And I cannot boss you around.”

“Good boy.” Sonny recites the compliment with warmth, rewarding him with a short kiss and slow caresses. “Wonderful. You passed your second lesson. Good boy.” Rafael keens, an unfamiliar flutter puttering in his chest for the praise; he did good and has been recognized for it. So this is what it feels like. “I know that was difficult for you, but you did it. I’m so proud of you.”

“Yes.” A hand pets his hair. The words cozy up to his heart in tendrils and hold him in place as strongly as the ropes are. It’s a bit overwhelming, to be honored in such a way. From Sonny, the praise was never anything new, but the frequency and sincerity that presented it sent him through a loop. It never stopped, although it did ease up once they got comfortable with one another, and it may have bled into their personal lives once they became bed partners. But now, with the realization that Sonny might mean a little more to him than a coworker or sexual partner, he isn’t sure what to make of it. There’s more that makes him happy than Sonny praising him.

The blindfold comes off, and Rafael blinks his eyes rapidly to clear away the discomfort from the overhead lights. The Tie falls on his neck, bowed into his collarbone, and he is greeted by a warm smile. At least for now, the dominant facade is held back.

“Are you okay? Do we need to stop or slow down?” Sonny asks, keeping his voice quiet and steady.

“No,” Rafael shakes his head almost immediately. “No, I’m fine.” He must be unconvincing—god, what is this man doing to him—and Sonny reaches over to grab a water bottle from the bed. He tips it forward, uncapped, in an offer; knowing the amount of heart in this man and everything he did, it’ll be easier to accept than fight it. Rafael nods and opens his mouth, and Sonny gently tips it back for him to drink, all slow sips and audible gulps. The water is cool and refreshing; a small part of Rafael is grateful he took it now and not later.

“Could I say something real quick,” Sonny asks, doe-eyed and genuine, “out of the scene?”

Rafael, knowing the smirk he offers is safe in this setting, shrugs. “I thought you already were, but go ahead.”

Sonny kneels between his legs, his fingers reaching down to his ankles so he can massage the muscle, right where the rope connects with skin. “I know you don’t let anyone control you or boss you around, so to give me the opportunity to do that is an honor. Truly.” His smile is sunshine, blessed with rays of gold that mirror the remnants of his hair untouched by wisps of silver. “And I know, even when you’re not on top, you’re the one in charge. Which is not a complaint, for the record, I love that about you. But,” he adds, his fingers relenting their ministrations to ride up his calves and clutch his knees, “I don’t want to trample you. I don’t wanna push you too far. I want us to enjoy ourselves.”

He seals his remark with a smaller smile, one not as shining but equally kind, equally patient. Rafael’s heart is full for this man; he doesn’t know when it happened, if it was a recent development or if it’s been unconscious and undisturbed for so long. The only thing he does know is that he cares more about Sonny Carisi than a simple label like “bed partner” could ever contain. It’s much deeper than that, and he just proved that to him.

Rafael wants to hook his legs around this man and hold him close, let him bury himself inside and roll his hips through his thrusts. He settles on the quirk of his lips and a tender gaze to compel those emotions, as only he can, specifically for Sonny to decipher and code out. “Thank you,” he says, and Sonny grins. A bright, beautiful man who cares so much and somehow found enough to direct it towards him. How generous. “I appreciate you looking out for me. I’m not going to tell you that there’s nothing to worry about, because this is just as nerve-wracking for you as it is for me. But I trust you.” When did their lips get so close? “I’d trust you with my life. I know you won’t stifle me.” And, just because he can, he adds with a simper, “Although I don’t think you could.”

Sonny kisses the smirk right off his face. He dives forward, shoving Rafael against the back of the chair, but the moan from the restrained lawyer is stronger than their concern for replaceable furniture. Rafael lets Sonny rule the kiss, standing back up and bending over him. He consumes him, pulls out groans and whines and soft pleas for more, to never stop. Sonny’s hands run over his body—along his shoulders, against his chest, over his hair, through his veins. There’s not a spot he doesn’t take over. Rafael feels him everywhere.

He pulls back and wipes away a strip of saliva from the corner of Rafael’s mouth. “Here I am trying to be nice,” Sonny pants,” and you gotta ruin it.”

“It’s common knowledge I ruin you,” Rafael counters. “Don’t be so surprised.”

“You fucking—” Another clash of lips and teeth, another swipe of tongues. Rafael can only take it, can only receive the heat and passion lodged in his lips, thirsty for him and clamoring for more. It’s shocking that he can even keep up with it.

Sonny backs away and fingers the blindfold, pressing it between his thumb and forefinger, eyes clouding over with cautious dominance. Rafael leans forward as much as he can to mouth at his wrist, and when Sonny brings it closer, he licks up his finger and groans. “You can put it back on if you want.”

“Would you like that?” Blue irises flash with interest at the offer but nothing more. “I wanna fuck your mouth.”

“God.” Rafael shuts his eyes to stop himself from outright moaning. “Please do.”

He earns a peck to each eyelid, and then the blindfold slips back on. Sonny checks that it’s secure over his head, fingers quick and gentle and running through his hair as a reward. Rafael sighs and accepts the darkness from The Tie much warmer than he had before. He has Sonny, and Sonny has his trust. The tip of his cock, still clothed, nudges against his lips; Rafael instantly opens his mouth but falls short of filling it. “I’m going to start slow. You can suck as much as you want. I’ll fuck you when you’re ready for it.”

“Yes.” He dives forward again but Sonny holds him back by the top of his head, chuckling quietly.

“Let me get it out for you.” His hands move away to the rustle of fabric, and even if he can’t see it, he can feel the shift in the air between them to know that Sonny is ready for him. Finally, he’ll get something more than teasing.

“I’ll do it.” Rafael cranes his neck back, unsure where the detective is or where he may be looking, just wriggling against the rope and flexing his limbs. “Let me help.”

Sonny hums and holds his cheek softly; his thumb slips forward to press against his lower lip. Rafael whines, kissing his thumb and nuzzling against his palm. The head of Sonny’s cock presses against his lips—there’s no doubt about it, the heat radiating off it and the small leak that smears over his mouth proves it—and Rafael pounces on his dick. He wastes no time licking the head, curling around the tip and sucking in. A bit of precome falls on his chin but he’s unfazed by it. He would make a mess of himself if he was guaranteed he could take as much of his cock as he could.

When he starts bobbing his head, taking in more of the long dick and slurping around it, Sonny groans. His hands stay away, for now, probably to stop himself from fucking his mouth too early, but he makes up for it by the string of words—all compliments, all tender words and clear directions—that pour out of his mouth. Each one stays firm and steady and hides any indication that the blowjob is affecting him.

“There you go. Your third lesson—passed with flying colors. Good job.” Sonny rolls his hips to tease him when Rafael moves back for a mouthful of air and then guides him back. “Fuck. Your mouth is tight. Wonder if it’s tighter than your ass.” Rafael groans against him, and Sonny laughs, a slight shiver in his voice. “You liked that, didn’t you? Of course you did. You’ve always been a slut for rough sex.”

Rafael wants to take him in further until his throat is flexing against him and his cheeks are full, but he pulls back at the dirty talk. He gasps desperately and tries to calm his rapid heartbeat. Hearing the words flowing with arousal, drenched in lust, is more pleasing than he expected. He feels like his only use, his one purpose, is to entertain Sonny. To accept his dick however Sonny wants him to. And he will do anything to earn his praise.

Sonny runs a hand through his hair but keeps his contact to a minimum. Rafael moves forward to relish in it as much as he can. “We’ve barely started and you’re already so beautiful.”

“Fuck me.” Rafael dives back in, relaxing his throat so he can take in as much of Sonny’s cock as his mouth will allow. The taller man lets out a yell above him, the most he’s allowed since his mouth connected with his dick, and the satisfaction is overwhelming.

“Careful. Don’t want you choking.” Sonny clutches his shoulder, and the smirk flows in his words without restraint. “You want me to fuck your mouth, don’t you?” Rafael nods, moving with Sonny’s cock between his lips, and hums at the satisfied pat against his head. “Good. Gonna fuck you so hard, you can feel it in your ass. God, you were made for this.”

When Rafael moves back again, he presses his forehead against Sonny’s hip and breathes out, his body sagging against the rope. All he wants is Sonny to speak without hesitation and cover him in gentle praises and cum. God, he’ll take anything the man gives him if he could have Sonny’s cock all to himself.

He returns again, swallowing lewdly and sucking his cheeks in. Sonny’s hands hop between combing through his hair and moving away, still cautious to fuck his mouth, and Rafael finds it both endearing and frustrating. The only solution he can think of is letting the other man take what he wants. With one last suckle, he sits up and licks his lips. “Counselor.” Sonny moans, deep and rolling. “Fuck my mouth.”

Sonny laughs under his breath; his hands take hold on either side of his head and massages his temples idly. “What do we say when we want something?”

God, he’s going to be ruined. A bit of his control falls into Sonny’s hands, safe and secure, and he sighs. “Please.”

That’s all he needs. Sonny pushes the tip of his cock against his lips, and when Rafael opens his mouth, Sonny pushes in and starts fucking him. Rafael relaxes at the sharp pressure rubbing around his mouth, skirting over his tongue. He feels like he’s drowning in the sensation, of the use of his mouth for one purpose. He’s trapped in the chair, tied to the armrests and legs with rope that clenches against his skin, and hands that are curled against his scalp and running his mouth over his cock.

Rafael moans wantonly around him. He would find some way to tease Sonny—swirl his tongue around him, suck his cheeks in every time he pushes in, scrape his teeth along the shaft—but the only thing he’s capable of is drenching his cock in high-pitched whines and thirsty groans. He isn’t terrified of the feeling, despite his waning acceptance to it, but he feels Sonny throb in his mouth, feels his fingers tangle in his hair with each tug over his dick, and he floats into it. He has never given himself up to someone so easily before, if at all, but he doesn’t think twice of doing it for Sonny.

“You know exactly what to do with your mouth,” Sonny grunts, rough and coarse with a thickened accent. “Know how to make me feel good. So much snark and bite. You can’t sass me if your mouth is being used for fucking.” Rafael’s hands curl around the armrests, and the deep chuckle rumbles through him, pleased with the result of his rambles. “You judge me for having multiple uses for my mouth, but who’s the one moaning all over my dick?”

He doesn’t mean to prove his point but his mind is already numb from the cock in his mouth and the words from the detective—in that ugly fucking accent, no less—he reacts without thinking. Rafael whines, slurps noisily around him, relaxes his throat as an invitation for a deep dive. Sonny takes the offer for a moment—a quick shove, a momentary hold, a shudder from the tip of his cock to the top of his spine—and pulls out fully. He releases his head while Rafael catches his breath, chest heaving and panting, and Sonny chuckles.

“What a sloppy boy.” Rafael has to bite his lip to stop himself from coming on the spot. “You’re covered in spit and cum.”

He sighs, the sound of a hand running over a slick cock obvious without his sight. “Good.”

“Wanna make more of a mess.” Sonny huffs and the slick slides get faster. “Would you like that? Just let me come all over you, make a mess of your face?”

“Yes.” His breath is airy and desperate, and the single affirming word is the only thing running through his head. “I wanna watch you fall apart. Please.”

The Tie is tugged off, Rafael bats his eyes, and he watches Sonny fall apart—head back, throat working around rough swallows and loud groans, hand clasped firm and tight around his dick and pumping. The moment is short but perfect, and when Rafael shuts his eyes, a preventative measure to protect his eyes from his semen, the image is imprinted in his mind. Sonny is quiet when he comes, save for the heavy panting and wrangled cry when he releases. The semen stains most of Rafael’s face, falling across his lips and cheek, a few spurts streaking downward to land on his chest and neck.

Sonny leans down and kisses him, and Rafael swears his soul is pulled out of his chest and held tightly by this man. Even though they’re kissing and Sonny has his eyes shut, Rafael can’t help but drink in the sight before him while he can. His eyes stay half-lidded while he steals every sight he can from those thin lips and drinks in each point of contact. His body is stern, a white pillar of authority that isn’t falling prey to his kisses like usual. He molds their lips lazily as if it would be too much effort to actually treat him. And when Sonny pulls back, he licks his lips to clear them of spit and semen. Any other time, he’d probably relish in the saliva. But that type of behavior is not allowed tonight.

“I like that tie.” Sonny drags a line of pecks, starting on his forehead, to the tip of his nose, and finishing on his lips. Rafael sighs at how kind and soft it is despite how dirty he is. “Didn’t wanna ruin it.”

“Will you wear it again?” Rafael asks, a whisper from his usual composure. His throat is worn and pleasantly raw, his face and chest are stained with come, but he’s still hard and wanting a touch that’s a bit more merciful.

“And think of you every time. Here,” he grabs the water bottle from before and offers it again. Rafael drinks down a few gulps, exhaling and rolling his head back to relish in the refreshment. It helps calm him down a smidge, but his mind is still racing with arousal and begging for some sort of contact to visit his burning cock. Sonny takes a few sips himself and kneels down between his legs. He eyes the space between his legs but makes no movement towards it. “Good job, Raf. You did amazing.”

Pleased at the praise more than the gesture, he lets himself mewl into the motion and sighs. “Thank you.”

Sonny kisses his knee. “Do you know how to submit yet?”

Rafael is parched from this man, and his body is demanding him to give in, but he refuses to go down easily, even tied to the chair. He manages a smirk that might not look like much to anyone else but will be understood by Sonny: he still has some fight in him, some playing he wants to partake in. He has yet to submit to the rushing buzz of pleasure that Sonny so easily took in stride a few weeks ago. It’ll take more than that to bring his guard down. “I think I still need some convincing.”

Sonny laughs and squeezes his knee while he stands back up. “Looks like it’s time for this, then.” He caps the water bottle and replaces it on the bed with the pink dildo. Rafael’s hips cant up on their own when he spots the toy, hands scrambling against the armrests and feet clamoring. He nearly misses the pleasant laugh that drips out of the taller man. “Have you been waiting for this?”

“I just need to come.” Rafael leans forward and looks up at Sonny, unsure of what he must look like—covered in semen, saliva coating his lips, cock waiting patiently against his stomach—but hoping that his point is clear. “Let me come. Please.”

Sonny grabs the bottle of lube and uncaps it; Rafael watches him squirt some slick on one hand and hold the rosy pink dildo from the smooth bottom. Starting from the top, he pushes the toy through the cup of his fingers, simulating the course of action it will take in his ass. Rafael keens when Sonny hums in mock thought, eyeing the dildo with the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth and his head tilted to the side. What a tease.

“Is this another thing you had lying around?” Rafael asks once he recomposes himself and clears his throat.

“Nope.” Sonny twirls his wrist and spreads a generous amount around the silicone head. “Bought it just for us.”

Rafael’s heart twists at the comment, said so casually and without a glance towards him, that he almost doubts he heard him right. This was more than a gift for each other, more than a display for them to show each other, more than one of them taking a position he is unfamiliar with and trusting the other to help him through it. Sonny is not naturally dominant so he keeps himself afloat with fast quips and teases that are swiftly returned. Rafael struggles to submit on his own so he washes in his bed partner’s thorough praise and reassurances. The thought of a toy for the two of them—let alone the image of Sonny, a good Catholic boy from Staten Island, purchasing it—to continuously use warms him.

Once the dildo has been thoroughly slicked, Sonny steps forward, dildo in hand and held out towards Rafael. “Do you want me to stretch you a little first or put it in?”

“Take a guess.” Rafael shifts his hips to give him easier access to his asshole. “I’ve been waiting for it since you mentioned it.”

“And you’ve waited so well.” Sonny stands between his legs, more a tease than ever, and smiles at him. “You’ve been so patient and good. It’d be cruel of me to deprive you of it any longer.”

“It would.” He glares at him in warning but judging from the unfazed expression, it’s not very impressive or threatening. “I trust you’ll make the right decision.”

“Do you really think I’d do something so cruel?”

Rafael starts to answer, his mouth opening in protest, but the press of the dildo against his entrance silences any attempts to speak up. He clenches his ass preemptively, earning him a hand to the back of his neck and a soothing voice in his ear.

“Relax for me. I know you’re excited.” The dildo lingers outside of his ass while the words trickle down his spine and around his heart. Combined with the accent and the warmth of the husky voice, Sonny helps him release the enthusiastic tension from his body. “I can’t put it in unless you’re relaxed.” His shoulders sag, his fingers resting on the armrest, unfurled and slack. “There you go, Raf, you’re so good.”

“Fuck.” Steeling his legs as much as he can against the floor, Rafael looks into the deep depths of Sonny’s eyes. “Please put it in.”

The artificial head nudges itself inside; Sonny eases it in, slowly, keeping eye contact the entire time. Rafael mouths around a cry, the pressure of the dildo spreading him open. He finally moans, lustful and desperate, when Sonny halts right in his ass and holds it in place. A few more shoves inside, a few nudges to the rounded edges of his prostate, and he could come. If only he could form the words and plead for it.

“Good boy.” Sonny smiles and leans forward to kiss his cheek. Before it lands, a blaring ringtone breaks the air, causing both of them to jump. Sonny stands to get it from the bedside table and frowns when he reads it. Rafael, trying not to move the lower part of his body, tries to turn his head to look back at him but can only catch a glimpse of the side of his face. Judging by the disgruntled huff, it’s not a pleasant call, and Sonny returns to him with a grimace. “It’s my parents.”

“You should take it.” Sweaty and riled from the dildo, Rafael nods to the bedroom door. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

“You sure? I can tell them to call back.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m well entertained for now.” He smiles and shimmies his hips, sighing at the slight shift against his inner walls and the scrape of the dildo against the chair that helps position it.

Sonny looks convinced at least and kisses the top of his head before he leaves. “I’ll be right outside, okay?” He backs away and takes the call, returning to his usual state of bouncy glee and warm affection. Rafael watches him leave, waiting until he’s a few feet away, and he releases the breath kept in his chest. He can feel the clench in his gut untangle as he sags in his binds, succumbing to the presence of the dildo and its stretch. Sonny definitely chose well: the toy is thick enough to keep him spread and long enough to extend into him at a comfortable level, something he’s familiar with.

It takes listening to the voice outside the room, accompanying the subtle sways of his hips and the small inching hops of the dildo, for Rafael to realize how much he’s fallen for Sonny. It’s taken him, Rafael Barba, ten months—eleven, by now, for sure—of a secret sexual relationship for him to discover how much he cared for Sonny. Only after the years of their professional relationship did he conclude that there was more to their quips and banter and idolization. They are crafted of those moments and much more, and Rafael can’t think of any situation where that dynamic was anything but preparing them for this.

The position is uncomfortable, and he doesn’t have much space or leverage, but once he has the dildo pressed against the seat of the chair and pours enough strength into his hips, Rafael ruts onto the toy as much as he can. He has to readjust for a better angle, but with the drying cum on his chest and face, and the throbbing pressure in his dick, he can’t care any less. The dildo is just close enough to Sonny’s size—not as long, maybe the right girth—that Rafael can shut his eyes and pretend it’s him. He can act like the voice outside of the bedroom isn’t discussing the latest drama between three sisters and is instead positioned outside his ear, praising him in coy whispers, cheering him on with smiles that puncture his cheeks and shine in his eyes, goading him to keep going in the reassurance that he’s safe in these feelings and can fall into the feeling of submission.

Rafael trembles when he falters on a thrust and knocks the dildo against the outskirts of his prostate. It has barely hit the bundle of nerves inside him, but it already feels like he’s hit it straight on. The cum that sticks to him—both from Sonny’s blowjob and his own eager spills over his abdomen—flares into a blaze and dances over his body. For however long Sonny will have him, Rafael wants to stay around him. He doesn’t have anything to be afraid of when he’s looked after so well and has someone to look after in return.

It’s with that thought—of domesticity, of tight hugs and protective embraces, of lingering touches from the long past and hopeful future—that Rafael cries out and throws his head back, coming over himself and quivering. His mind blanks as he squeezes around the dildo and thinks of Sonny holding him down, rolling through him and dominating him until he’s begging for more and climaxing into satiation. The ropes rub over his skin and keep him in place while he shivers and stumbles back to himself. He feels messy—his face, his chest, his stomach, his thighs—all laced with semen and flaring as an inferno under his skin. Finally, he can float and not have to think.

He isn’t sure how long he sits in the mess, coated in cum and sweat, but Sonny—suddenly half-dressed, his vest and shirt dangling off his arms—is kissing him before he realizes it. When he comes back to himself, his fingers are scrambling to free him from the ropes binding him to the chair. His phone is discarded somewhere—definitely not on his person if his hurried and swift fingers are any proof. Rafael wraps his arms lazily around his shoulders, and Sonny holds him to his chest and supports him, caressing the back of his head. This couldn’t have been part of his plan, but Sonny always was better acting on his impulses than following a plan. Rafael returns to the present when he feels a soft peck land on his ear and a chuckle.

“You really couldn’t wait for me,” he teases. Rafael shakes his head, slumped against him and still shaking from the fake dick nestled in his ass. “Don’t worry, I’m not upset. You went a long time without having me touch your dick.”

Rafael swallows and digs his hands into the meat of his back. Koala comments be damned, he isn’t removing himself from his man’s side until he’s satisfied. He realizes they’re sitting on the floor, Sonny’s legs spread out under him, Rafael’s wrapped around his sides, the dildo sliding inside him. When he sits up, he gasps and arches, free to move his body however he wants now that he’s unrestrained.

“What do you need from me?” Sonny asks. He keeps himself present against him, his hands skidding over his lower back. Rafael chokes and preens under his grasp. “Where do you want me?”

With a deep whine and a desperate roll of his hips, Rafael wets his lips and finds his voice again. “Inside me. I need you inside me.” He looks up at Sonny, and the clear blue of his eyes darken at what he sees. Whatever it may be, he only hopes it’s satisfactory. “Please, Counselor. I need you.”

They don’t make it to the bed. Sonny just takes—no, throws the dildo out, returning it to the bed while he tugs a condom on, and slides right home. Rafael tingles with oversensitivity, stretched out on the floor and held up by the hands clamped on his thighs. Sonny sheaths himself in his ass and pounds into him at a fast pace, using the leverage of his hips to throw Rafael down onto him. The only sounds either of them can make are breathy moans and rising whines, the latter of which is made by the man splayed on his back and writhing against the hardwood floor.

“Sonny, please,” he mewls, toes curling and skin flaring, unaware of what he’s pleading for but knowing he _ needs _ it with every fiber in him. He wants Sonny’s fingerprints imprinted on his thighs. Having his dick take residence in both his throat and his ass hold him together. He can only hope it’ll resonate with him in the morning. For the moment, his purpose is for Sonny’s use and pleasure only. “Sonny. Please.”

“I’m givin’ you everything I have,” Sonny pants, all reassurances and confidence, bent over Rafael and pistoning into him. “So tight, so good. I can look at you all day.” He knows where to hit his prostate, when to knock the head of his dick into it, how to skirt around it and avoid it. Rafael loses his voice in a raw yell that has his legs raising and shoving that wondrously long dick further against his insides. His nerves sing from the pressure and tingle from being led to the edge, spirals of arousal clawing at his insides. He doesn’t think he can come again, and yet, with the only thing grounding him being Sonny’s rapid pace and unrelenting hands—he’s barely even moved them since he started, fuck—with that man above him, he can see it happening again.

His hands trembling, eyes unable to focus on anything, Rafael reaches for his cock and holds it between his hands. The only sound he can make is a grunt, his teeth clenching at the burn running down his back, around his wrists and ankles, at the base of his dick and lighting up wherever he touches himself.

Sonny caves further, mumbling under his breath. “I can’t believe I have you. Can’t believe you have me.”

“You have me,” Rafael echoes, far gone. “I have you.” His hand moves up his shaft, a tight fist mirroring the motion with Sonny’s thrusts, and his eyes squeeze shut.

“Always have. God, Raf, you’re so beautiful like this. Make me feel so good.” He smiles down at him and Rafael can feel a part of him break out in a sob at this man. So kind, so pretty. “Can I come on you again?”

Rafael whines and nods, struggling to hold himself together, hoping he can pair off a climax with him. “Come on me. Make a mess with me. Please, Sonny.”

Sonny pulls out of him and tears off the condom. He readjusts them, gently putting Rafael’s legs down, and moves over him so he can rub their cocks together. Rafael yells and bucks, his hands falling to the floor and scratching against the polished wood. The sounds falling from his mouth sound nothing like him, all breathy gripes that arch his back and scratch his throat at the rough use. The whimpering moans come from some part of him previously sleeping, untouched and undisturbed. All it needed was a persistent nudge from a man who could power the city with the strength of his smile, who honored Rafael without offense at teasing snarks and without neglecting his own self-care and confidence, who could accept him for each cutting edge and smooth surface, never batting an eye.

The emptiness inside him is gaping, and he wishes for the pressure applied to the already sensitive area to return and tear through him, but if it means removing the long, thick cock from his body, he wouldn’t make the change. He needs to feel Sonny’s dick pulse and throb against his and match the rhythm so he can rise and fall with him. Rafael’s lips form loose strands of Spanish nonsense when his throat gets bored of moaning, too focused on too many things to comprehend what he’s saying but knowing just enough to be sure he’s disconnected again. He and Sonny, just the two of them, float along a separate plane, made for them without any guide. He could get lost here forever, never return, and share kisses and embraces with this man.

“Look at me,” Sonny breathes out, sharp in the absence of words and blaring with his demand. Rafael gathers himself just enough so he can turn his head and make eye contact. Blue sparks, hazy with lust, eye him and smile warmly at him. Rafael groans and grabs his shoulder to dig his nails into him. Sonny laughs, weak and airy, and kisses his hand. “Perfect.”

His sight fogs over, his body thrums with energy, and Rafael releases over himself and Sonny, unable to hold himself back any longer. The breath is ripped right from his throat and is replaced by a heavy throb that overwhelms every inch of him. Without a doubt, his body is drained, and his eyes are heavy, but he feels sated. Sonny comes, all gasps and writhes and breathy moans, and stops himself from collapsing on top of him. Rafael laughs quietly at the shocked expression on his face and pats his cheek affectionately; he knows his submission was far from Sonny’s, but he’s at peace with both of them sharing a side of them in their own way. There’s nothing wrong with it. He simply relishes in the thought.

Sonny reaches up, thumbing a hand over his cheekbone, chest heaving and eyes bright. The side of him that was in charge has been tamed again to make room for his typical warmth and glee. “How was that? How do you feel?”

Rafael looks up at him and smiles. “Satisfied.”

* * *

Sonny wakes up at early dawn, his body groaning from the small shift of his hips as he gets comfortable again. Although the pressure is nothing compared to what Rafael must be feeling, that was definitely the hardest he’d pound into someone in a long time. He turns over and faces Rafael, who has snuggled up against him during the night and wrapped his arms tight around his middle. The look of peace on his face, a stark contrast to the frantic begging of his submissive state, looks so nice on him. It had taken a long bath—which Sonny hadn’t shared with him, although he did help Rafael clean himself when his muscles were too worn to get somewhere, and he did allow himself to be wrapped up in a fluffy towel—and another water bottle before he returned to his usual self, but Sonny took it all in stride. Giving himself up was difficult on its own, and he had been prepared for some push from Rafael. When he agreed to take a dominant stand, Sonny had agreed to all of it, and he committed as much as he could.

At his shift on the bed and the rustle of blankets, Rafael stirs and murmurs a muffled groan into his shoulder, one eye opening to reluctantly peer up at him. Sonny soothes him with soft hums and a gentle peck to the nose. “Sorry, didn’t mean t’bother you,” he whispers.

Rafael only snorts and holds him closer without a verbal response. He resembles a koala in his cuddling so much, Sonny’s heart feels like it’s bursting at the sight of his burrowed nose and taut arms. He hopes for more moments between them where he can tease his habit and have a remark thrown back at him referencing his giraffe-like height. To think of a partner who can’t keep up with him or dish out snarky comments to express his affection sounds painfully unreal. He shivers at the thought and burrows into the other man’s arms for a distraction.

Sonny’s feelings for Rafael go beyond a physical connection. He wants more than sex, more than work, and although he’s terrified Rafael doesn’t share it, he hopes the feeling is mutual. If it wasn’t, they wouldn’t have spent so much time together. Rafael wouldn’t have kept on cuddling him after the koala comment; he wouldn’t have permitted him to tie him to a chair, blindfold him, and tease him until he came untouched and off the small jerks of a dildo; and he definitely wouldn’t have continued this affair for ten, almost eleven, months.

Sony settles back down, drifting off around an embrace that rivals the grip of a koala, wishing for answers but satisfied with what he has.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's not a comment about Rafael being a koala did I really write it


	6. Spoiled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Let’s say you take a break to join me for lunch.”
> 
> Rafael’s eyebrow quirks up. “Let’s say I do. You tell me your expectations, I’ll do my best to follow through.”
> 
> “No, you won’t. I know you.” Sonny steps away, creating a cold space between them, and strolls to his desk. “You’ll find every loophole you can to not fully commit to it. The location won’t be good enough, your chair will be too creaky, you’ll have a headache, you’ll want to eat outside or inside or both—”
> 
> “I get it.” Rafael, arms crossed, turns away to the window with a deep sigh. “I’ll make it difficult for you. What’s your insurance?”
> 
> “The anal plug.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uhhhh how about them Giants am I right haha
> 
> This is 12k words I either need to be stopped or encouraged or both honestly who's to say
> 
> So since October is a ~spooky~ month and Halloween is at the end of the month, I'm doing a little special for Barisi. Do I have too many things to write? Maybe, don't worry about it, okay  
But yeah since this fic is essentially its own Kinktober fic, I'm gonna do some ~spooky~ fics as an apology for being way too early for Kinktober 😎 This fic may be finished by the end of the month (depending on how much I get finished for the ~spooky~ months) but either way, we only have two chapters left! 💜
> 
> I hope you enjoy!! <3

“Raf—fuck!”

A deep chuckle rumbles against his neck. The hand splayed against his crotch presses harder, fingers cupped under his balls and massaging him. Sonny’s eyes blur at the pleasure as another cry is wrangled from his throat. Rafael has been thoroughly dragging his teeth down his neck and sucking small love bites on the skin hidden by his collar. Thankfully, the people who could catch them in the crib—the squad, any of the officers on the morning shift—are gone. There are no perps, no witnesses, no one pulling an all-nighter. It’s just Rafael, coat off, suspenders dangling on his hips and running over Sonny’s legs with each shift, licking and biting his throat and rubbing the front of his pants, perched over Sonny with flawless poise and precision.

“Raf,” Sonny pants, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. They weren’t trying to get caught, but for two straight weeks, they were taking every opportunity to push the other against the wall during work hours and ravish him with his mouth and hands. Today was no different: they stumbled into the crib the second the familiar faces left; Sonny fumbled with his jacket and shirt before Rafael, impatient, tossed him against one of the beds and straddled him; they ground their hips together, they roamed familiar territory, they pushed any cries into shoulders to keep the volume to a minimum. “I’m gonna come.”

“Good,” Rafael sighs. He bites at his pulse and keeps the skin between his teeth to lap at it. His palm rolls over the bulge, legs framing trembling limbs. “Gonna watch you fall apart. Mark you up as you come in your pants.” He chuckles against his skin, and Sonny digs his nails into his lower back—just to get back at him, so he’s not the only one moaning wantonly into his ear—to grapple with him. “We have to stop making a habit of that, don’t we?”

Sonny groans. “It was  _ one time _ and all your fault.”

“Mm. How’s the phrase go? Once was an accident. Twice,” Rafael grabs hold, squeezing his crotch, and Sonny bucks and arches off the cot, his climax wracking through his body and up his spine, “is a coincidence.” If it weren’t for the voice, he’d be drowning in the roaring rush of blood in his ear and the throbbing damp spot in front of his pants. “One more and we got ourselves a habit.”

Rafael moves off of him and stands, adjusting his suspenders back on his shoulders while Sonny lays on the bed. His entire body feels sated, a dead weight against the mattress, the pleasant roll of arousal coating his legs and crotch despite how uncomfortable his pants are. This time, it’s not from an untended erection. When he feels some control return to his limbs, he sits up with a groan and rubs his shoulder. Rafael laughs quietly, petting the back of his head fondly.

“You feeling alright?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Sonny says, smiling at him to reassure him. He adjusts himself to ease off the wet stains in his boxers. A flicker of concern appears on the lawyer’s face for a brief second and disappears. “Bit wet on my dick.”

“I’m sorry if it’s that uncomfortable. I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to.”

Rafael starts to move away, hands fumbling with his belt, but Sonny dives forward to grab his wrist. The sharp green shade held in his eyes is nothing short of worry that he finally crossed a line. They were doing so well, going so far, and all it took was one step and he—theoretically, if Sonny hadn’t already been okay with everything they did—was the one who ruined it. “I’m not complaining. Yeah, it’s uncomfortable, I came in my pants. But I’d do it again.”

“Would you.” It’s not a question; Rafael sits beside him, keeping their contact to a minimum. “If we were to meet tomorrow, would you give me permission to jerk you off and make you come in your pants?”

He answers without hesitation, without coercion, clear and firm. “Yes.”

Rafael snorts, shaking his head. “Well. I should be so lucky.”

“If you want, I can help you understand what it feels like.” Sonny reaches over, dropping his hand between them; Rafael meets him halfway, fingers entwined together. “If I didn’t want it, I would have told you to stop. But I wanted it.”

He smirks, teasing. “Even if it soaks your dick?”

“Even if.” He shrugs. “The stains are easier to come out of underwear anyway.”

“Mm. What time is it?” He gently turns Sonny’s wrist to check his Watch. “Can you make time for me?”

Sonny sinks to his knees, nudging his way between Rafael’s thighs and looking up at him, all mirth and excitement. “I got all the time in the world. Let me spoil you.”

Rafael doesn’t come in his pants—he’s too impatient and frees his cock halfway through, something about protecting his pants. Sonny doesn’t mind. He proves as much by diving forward and consuming his dick in one go, to a beautiful symphony of cries and clenched thighs around his neck.

* * *

Two days later, Sonny has an idea.

It involves going into an adult store—again, the same Mets cap on his head, the same gray shirt with a hole in it and ragged jeans—and making another purchase that will definitely turn his ears red. The silicon toys in plastic casings boast about the pleasure they can put on a body; the variety of gags is interesting, despite their lack of want or need for them. He stops at a particularly enticing line of lingerie, some unisex, others formed for specific body types. A maroon pair catches his eye, a flap in the front and an opening in the back, and just pressing his hands on the slip of lacy fabric compliments him. He tucks it under his arm before anyone can notice.

He and Rafael had decided to experiment again with Sonny’s dominant side and, more importantly, Rafael’s submission. It wouldn’t be such a big deal to emphasize the difference if Rafael wasn’t who he was: a mouthy prosecutor who liked to push as many buttons as he could and relish in the reaction, then play coy as if he didn’t know what he had done. Sonny loves—Sonny  _ likes _ him any way that he can have him. It was Rafael who insisted they try another scene similar to the experience with the chair and pink toy. Sonny takes it as a positive sign that Rafael enjoyed it, even if he has stated it with as little words as possible.

Sonny pulls out his phone and takes a picture of the dark red lingerie. He sends it to Rafael and texts a simple message:  _ How’s this look? _

The reply is instant. Sonny smiles when he reads it.  _ Fuck. _

_ Answer the question. _ His dominance seeps out of him like molasses, patient and steady.  _ You know better. _

_ It looks good. Fuck, Carisi, I’m between arraignments. _

_ You were the one who suggested I keep you updated. Would you rather I stop? _

_ Don’t even try it. _

_ Mixed signals. You want a pair for yourself, don’t you? _

Sonny pockets his phone and starts searching the racks for the right pair. He knows Rafael will have no color preference—he makes every color look good on him—but none of them are particularly enticing. He finds a blue pair, thicker and lacier than the other pair, that accommodates more for the front. It’d look good on Rafael: tight against his skin, hugging his thighs tighter than his secret shows of koala-like affection, matching a pocket square or tie or shirt or suit or all of the above. Sonny wants to admire it with his hands, thumb under the waistband and suckle softly at the curve of his hip, bite it off, drag it with the point of his canines and lick at his cock until he’s soaked the lingerie—

There’s a dressing room in the corner of the store. Maybe he can try it on. Relish in the fabric just a little. Maybe send Rafael an image of it.

A few minutes later, he adds two pictures to his text. Naked except for his socks and the same maroon panties he had picked out for himself. Naked except for the periwinkle blue slip of lingerie, taken with a perfect side profile of his dick.  _ The blue is for you. If you’re gonna be spoiled, might as well do it right. Consider it a gift. _

_ How fast can you get here? _

Sonny buys the items—and another, the one he actually came in to buy—as quickly as he can and rushes to his car.

* * *

“Have you ever thought of voyeurism?”

Rafael chokes on the sip of water he had been taking. Sonny barely acknowledges him, paging through the notes of evidence from Fin and witness statements that both he and Amanda have taken. She would have been there with him since they both stopped by to update their ADA on the case they were working, but her babysitter had canceled before she could even sit down, and she had to abandon the two. Sonny was simply taking the opportunity to set up their night under the guise that he was “cleaning up” the case as much as he could.

Rafael, coughing into his fist, clears his throat and looks up at Sonny through his eyelashes. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Sonny keeps his gaze on the papers, hip cocked to the side. It’s difficult to pose so nonchalantly to a request like that when his heart is pounding at the idea that has been brewing in his head for so long. “You really want me to repeat myself?”

Rafael takes a deep breath before speaking. “Well. To answer your initial question: yes.” He stands up straight, his chin raised. “I have. With you, or in the past,” he shrugs, leaning against the front of his desk, “who’s to say?”

Sonny finally steals a glance up at him, and he’s not surprised to see the challenging spark in his eyes. “You can play that game. Won’t get you your reward, though.”

“Do I need it that badly?”

“You tell me.” Sonny reaches into his pocket and holds up the black anal plug he had bought. Rafael’s eyes widen the second it appears, his jaw hanging at the sight of it. “I was gonna reward you for the other day, when I bought the lingerie.” The bob of his throat when he swallows roughly does not go unnoticed. Sonny smirks at the reaction. “I’ve been holding off on showing them to you. You’ve been patient with me.”

Rafael follows the plug with his eyes; his tongue darts out to lick his lips when Sonny pockets it again. “You’ve had that in your pocket all day?”

“Since lunch. Grabbed it on the midday coffee run.”

“Christ.” He covers his mouth. Sonny itches to grab his hand, press against his palm, wrap his tongue around his fingers, lick the digits and lather them in spit. “Well. Ah, if you really want to reward me…” He stands up and struts across to him, positioning his feet against the floor, hands in his pockets. “Go ahead.”

Sonny smiles, keeping the brightness on it to a minimum. He doesn’t want to show all his cards—that, he learned, from the prosecutor himself. “I have a twist.”

“A twist.” Rafael raises a hand but thinks better of it and lets it drop back into his pocket. “I’m listening.”

“What’s your schedule tomorrow?”

“Meetings. They’re doing inspections here at eleven,” he rolls his eyes as if it’s truly offensive at the inconvenience, “so they’re kicking us out. I’ll probably crash in your squad room while they do. I’m letting Carmen take a half-day.”

“But not you.” Sonny can’t help but smirk. “You have too much to do.” He laughs under his breath when Rafael shrugs. “Let’s say you take a break to join me for lunch.”

Rafael’s eyebrow quirks up. “Let’s say I do. You tell me your expectations, I’ll do my best to follow through.”

“No, you won’t. I know you.” Sonny steps away, creating a cold space between them, and strolls to his desk. He can feel Rafael’s burning gaze peering at him, suspicion or concerned, he can’t tell without looking. He purposely gazes at anything other than the lawyer. “You’ll find every loophole you can to not fully commit to it. The location won’t be good enough, your chair will be too creaky, you’ll have a headache, you’ll want to eat outside or inside or both—”

“I get it.” Rafael, arms crossed, turns away to the window with a deep sigh. “I’ll make it difficult for you. What’s your insurance?”

“The anal plug.” With the speed he turns his head to face him, Sonny is surprised he doesn’t pull something. “I want you to wear it during lunch. I have a remote,” he pulls it out of his pocket for proof, showing him the five levels of increasing strength, and Rafael, facing him fully now, swallows, “to control it. Every time you misbehave, I’ll turn it on.” He shows this by turning it onto the first setting and stirring the toy in his pocket. Rafael’s gaze is trapped between his hand and the pocket he had recently stored the toy. “And until you learn your lesson, it’ll stay that way. The more you act out, the longer—or higher—it’ll be.”

Rafael bites his knuckle, probably to stifle a groan, but Sonny catches the sound regardless. His ears are keen on picking it up, no matter how small. “You have it all planned out, don’t you?”

“Only at your approval.” Sonny shuts off the toy and intentionally steps into his line of sight and removes any signs of his dominance. He wants Rafael to be comfortable with it; when Rafael took control over him, he didn’t have to think twice about what he was doing. But it was much easier for Sonny to give up control, to trust someone else. “I don’t do anything unless you want it. We might be experimenting with this dom and sub play, but nothing like this. If you think it’s too much, you back out at any time.”

Rafael looks at him, up and down, and nods. “Okay.” There’s a bit of hesitance in his voice, but he clears his throat and straightens up. “I want everything you have to offer me. Quips and all.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Sonny, I…” He pauses, staring at the ground like he expects it to open up and drag him down. “I meant what I said the last time we did this. If there’s anyone who deserves to see this side of me, to hold my metaphorical trust in his hands, I want it to be you.” The earnest feeling practically pours out of him, whether he’s aware of it or not, eyes bright and gleaming. “If I had to trust you with my life, I would.”

“Please, you shouldn’t have. I’m flattered.” Sonny teases him with a wink, earning a laugh from him.

“Always happy to boost an ego.” Rafael sighs, bracing himself by massaging his temple. “I may be older and have had more opportunities to explore sexually, but I haven’t done anything like this before. And it’s terrifying enough that I regard you in a way I can’t remember experiencing with anyone else. So…” He looks up and holds out a hand, which Sonny takes gladly. “I appreciate you taking things easy. And I hope you’ll forgive me if I seem…hesitant or cautious. It has nothing to do with you,” he adds, even though Sonny is well aware and never took his feelings personally. “But I want this. I want you.”

“Thank you. I might not understand completely, because it’s not my experience, but I’m doing the best I can. And I’ll continue to do that.”

“I know you will.” Sonny could get lost in his smile: warm, tender, regarding him with just as much vigor. If Rafael looked at him like that every day, he surely wouldn’t survive. “And I expect you to give me a tough time for the entire lunch.”

“Please,” Rafael scoffs, “I may be spoiled from your attention, but I’m not a fool. I plan on making you work for my submission.”

“And I plan on taming you until you’re short of riding me in the booth.”

Rafael leans forward so he can whisper, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. “Then I wish you luck, Counselor.”

They make out for the next ten minutes. Rafael holds Sonny against him and lets him guide every aspect of the kiss, tongue and all.

* * *

Rafael stops by the bullpen, unannounced, and drops his briefcase and jacket on the round table, taking his seat without a second thought. Liv rolls her eyes at the flourish of his hands and the saunter in his step, but his promise to buy them coffee—“my treat for infringing on your space”—makes up for it. Sonny keeps up the facade and plays nice; he works diligently, takes statements, even leaves to check up on a victim. But when he walks or speaks, Rafael perks up ever so slightly, back curving up in expectation, hand stalling over his legal pad, before he resumes his writing. It takes everything in him not to jump the ship and drag Rafael to the crib and shove his tongue down his throat, lunch plans or secrecy be damned.

Although the reasons for his presence had already been discussed with the squad—inspections and fumigations that could not wait for non-working hours—Sonny comes up with a story to get him and Rafael out of the squad room for lunch. He had about three different explanations planned that would get them out, but he settles for one he comes up with on the spot, something about his oldest sister’s daughter needing help on some pre-law decisions. If it hadn’t been for the prosecutor’s constant jabs at their work or his hoarding of the pretzels at his self-made station, it might have been more difficult, but Lieu seems relieved and thankful that he’s provided them with some peace for a bit.

“Hey, Counselor,” Sonny pipes up once he has approval, striding across the floor and tapping lightly on the table to garner his attention. Rafael looks up at him, first a brief glance but then a solid stare. He must recognize the hardened stance, the firm color of his eyes, as a sign that he is ready to put his plan in motion. They agreed yesterday that Rafael would approve or disprove of his proposal depending on how present his hesitance was. Lunch was still on, but if he didn’t okay the codeword, Sonny would back off without any questions. “How do you feel about lunch? I have a few questions for you about law school.”

“Like what?” He asks, leaning back, appearing casual and attentive. No more so than usual, thankfully. “You already passed the bar. You aren’t looking to leave your blue brothers behind, are you?”

Sonny chuckles. “Nah, nothing like that. My niece, Mia, she’s looking into law school. I wanna help her out a bit—her mom works full-time and doesn’t have enough spare time to help her search for something, so I offered to help.”

Rafael checks both his watch and his phone before he stands with a shrug. “I’m not busy. Even with my office being fumigated, the two meetings I scheduled for this afternoon were canceled.”

“Hey, sounds great!” Sonny grins—more to assure him than in joy that he is still okay with the plan—and runs to grab his coat. The anal plug has sat in its right pocket for the entire day, next to a bottle of lube; he’s excited to finally use it. The maroon lingerie he’s wearing shifts against his thighs as he reminds himself to take it easy. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if he jumped the gun or went too far too quickly. “My sister’s gonna be thrilled. Let me pay for your lunch.”

“Carisi, please, you don’t have to—”

“My treat.” That was the part they hadn’t discussed yet, but Sonny had decided when Rafael brought in the coffee. It was the least he could do, what with all the trust he was given. Besides, Sonny wants to put more validity into the fact that he has absolutely spoiled the prosecutor.

Rafael smiles, soft but brief, and shrugs on his coat and nods to the elevators. “Lead the way, Detective.”

The ride down is quiet—god, that old thing moves slow—and the walk to the car is even more silent. But Sonny wants this to be perfect, wants Rafael’s experience to be comfortable and worth doing again, so he says nothing until they’re in the car and the ignition is turned. Once he inserts the key, he turns to Rafael, his demeanor changing just a smidge into the domineering farce. It feels good to be in charge, a comforting weight hanging from his shoulders, but the sensation is outweighed by the undying trust that Rafael has instilled in him and his dedication to care for him. “Do you want to continue? We won’t do anything you don’t want. We can end it here.”

Rafael licks his lips and shakes his head. “I’m fine. I want this.”

“Good.” Sonny reaches into his pocket and drops the anal plug into Rafael’s lap. “Put it in.”

To no surprise, he earns a scoff for the demand. “Right now? While you’re driving?” When he doesn’t answer, instead moving from the curb and heading to the cafe he had in mind, Rafael rolls his eyes and shifts his hips with a mumble. Sonny starts a mental tally in his head to keep track of the number of times he acts out. Lunch is going to be fun.

He keeps his eyes on the road; they’re going somewhere unfamiliar, just to be safe from recognition, so it’s important that he gets them there safely. Rafael shifts his hips down and fumbles with his belt, grunting when the seatbelt proves to be a nuisance. Sonny had considered if it would even be possible for him to insert the plug, but he had faith that Rafael could figure it out. Even if it meant that a few unneeded curses came his way.

“I hope you’re enjoying this,” he snaps once he finally slips off his belt and unzips his pants. Another tally for the snark thrown his way.

Sonny only shrugs, keeping an eye on the street names. “I’m paying attention to the road. Wouldn’t want to ruin the date we have planned.”

Rafael chuckles quietly. “Is that what this is? A date?”

He pauses, only to assess the tone from the other man. Initially, the thought hadn’t crossed his conscious mind; he didn’t think it was appropriate. He wanted their first official date to be something special, something fancy or romantic or both, with plenty of stops to prove that he could be a good partner intimately as well as sexually. It’s why he didn’t take Rafael’s proposal when he offered it a couple of months back: he had been asking for dinner, nothing more, and the possibility of Rafael sharing similar feelings silenced him into asking.

But, then again, he worked best when he didn’t have a plan. If this ends up being a date, he might as well accept it and go with the flow.

“You can call it whatever you want,” Sonny finally decides, giving him an out in case he declined the label. “I can call it a date, but I’m here for your pleasure. Not mine.” They come at a red light, and he turns to face the prosecutor, pants halfway down his thighs and a slight tint of red on his cheeks. Rafael turns away the moment he faces him, probably to conceal the flush on his face and to not give up his cover. “Need help?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” Rafael pitches further down and spreads his legs. He grabs the anal plug by the base, but before he slides it between his thighs, a bit of sense clears his head and sparks his eyes with light. “I hope you don’t expect me to put this in dry.”

Sonny hums, more to himself than a response, and drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “I guess I thought you’d be ready for it already. Looks like I was wrong.”

“It’s your fault for assuming in the first place.” He takes the bottle of lube offered to him with a scowl and uncaps it, draping a line of slick across two fingers.

“At this point, you’re asking for me to play with you.” When all he gets is a raised eyebrow, Sonny smirks. “You don’t remember? Every time you act out, I’ll turn it on and keep it that way.”

“So you’re keeping track of me now, are you?” Rafael shakes his head and discards the bottle in the backseat. Sonny, a bit of competition rising in him, as it always does when Rafael banters with him, sits up with a scowl.

“This isn’t my car, for the record. You’re picking that up.”

Rafael places the plug between his thighs. The light turns green, and the jolt of the car as it moves again has him groaning. “I’m saving it for later.”

Sonny snorts. Cute. “You’ll be lucky if there  _ is _ a later.”

“Oh, I have it on good authority that there  _ will _ be a later.” With a cant of his hips and a grunt, he pulls his hand back out and straightens himself up. To anyone else, he would look normal, but Sonny recognizes the bitten lip and deep breaths as something else. A thrill of excitement runs up his spine at how close they’ve gotten to their plan. “I’m rather spoiled.”

Sonny focuses on the road and turns. Rafael gasps at the sudden movement but stays put, his hands gripping his knees tautly at the minor swerve. They’re heading to a location in Queens that Sonny used to frequent back when he was hopping between precincts. It’s far enough from Midtown and his old precinct in Queens that they won’t get recognized or caught. And, hopefully, no one will ask any questions.

They reach the Queensboro Bridge and hit traffic immediately. They’re moving at a slow pace, and there’s not much else for them to entertain themselves with. Sonny reaches into his pocket and pulls out the remote for the plug; he had been doubtful that he would find one, but the adult shop still had some mercy to dole out.

“Looks like we’re gonna be here for a bit,” he says, brandishing the remote and sliding it between his fingers. Rafael, eyes wide and interested, follows the movement intensely. “You wanna get started now or wait until we get there?”

Rafael glares at him and sits up in his seat. “Depends on how much I’ve upset you.”

Sonny laughs under his breath, shaking his head. “That’s a secret.”

“Fine. You’re a cruel bastard, for the record,” he adds with a shift of his hips. “But if you’re seriously asking, I don’t have a preference.”

Interesting. Sonny hadn’t expected Rafael to include him like that, whether it be because it hadn’t crossed his mind or because they were there for Rafael’s pleasure, not Sonny’s. Maybe part of Rafael enjoying this was including his partner in their playtime and watching him enjoy it. Sonny hopes that was the case—his stomach flutters at the small possibility and runs with it. “Since this is a date, why don’t we find out more about each other?”

Rafael fixes him with a confused stare, bordering on suspicious. “You don’t think in all the years we’ve known each other that we don’t know enough already? And that’s not counting the eleven months we’ve been seeing each other.”

“I’m just trying to make small talk.” He doesn’t want to add another qualm to the tally, but judging from the look in Rafael’s eyes—the spark of lust, the desire that seeps from his gaze and mouth and small fidgets of his body—proves something different. Not knowing how many times he’s earned personal time with the plug has cornered Rafael into a frenzy. The lack of knowledge surrounding it is driving him to do more, to gain as much ground as he can before Sonny decides it’s enough. So he adds another mental mark against Rafael and inches the car forward. “What’s your favorite color?”

“How elementary of you.” Another count. God, he must really want it. “But, since you’re so curious, it’s purple.”

Sonny looks at him with a bit of shock, the casual dominance in his appearance subsiding for now. “Really? Purple?” When he earns a confirmed, if confused, nod, he mulls over the thought with a soft smile. “I could have bought purple lingerie if I had known.”

Rafael shrugs. “You need blue to make purple. Plus, I’ve grown to like blue over the years.”

Sonny pretends not to think too much about the implications behind that. He straightens his back instead and shoves the thought away for later. “You wanna ask something, or do you want me to interrogate you some more?”

An approving glint flashes in green eyes. “Are we keeping track of your comebacks now?”

He adds another mark for good measure. Five counts of sass for the prosecutor, all well-earned. If the plug is taunting Rafael, then the remote is driving Sonny crazy. “No, I think I’m much more well-behaved than you are.”

“Right, right, you’re absolutely whipped when I’m in charge.”

“Maybe we should start early.” Sonny holds his right hand up again to show off the remote. If Rafael is intimidated by it, he hides it well, snorting and crossing his arms defiantly. “With that last comment, you’re up to six counts.”

“Well, sue me and call me a felon— _ ah! _ ”

Sonny abruptly brings the vibrator up to the highest setting for two seconds and turns it off just as fast. He heard the toy spring to life and die just as quickly, and he  _ knows _ Rafael understood the message he was trying to send. The sudden spike brought his thighs together and his hands curling against the passenger seat, eyes growing wide and breath cut off. When he realizes it’s died down, and that Sonny isn’t teasing him with it, he smacks his arm with a glower and a pant. “Jackass.”

“Oh,” Sonny smirks, and he loves the darkened cloud of lust in his partner’s eyes, “we’re not through. That was just a taste of what I plan on doing with you.” He took his role of dominance seriously. There was more to the restaurant date than playing with Rafael in public and watching him fall apart from a silicone toy.

Rafael leans back and steadies his breathing, one hand shifting to the front of his pants and the other running through his hair. He stares ahead at the road and comes back to himself slowly, his thighs finally relaxing and his hands dropping to his lap. The traffic lets up enough for Sonny to get them off the bridge with only one more abrupt stop and a choked flinch from the passenger seat. He feels a bit guilty for the tease, but it vanishes when he catches a glimpse of Rafael, eyes closed and a coy smile on his face.

This date is already everything he could have asked for.

* * *

They’re seated at the cafe—a neat bistro that’s fairly crowded with single customers and noisy enough to create a small lull around the place—towards the back of the building, against the wall. Sonny, one hand propping his chin up while the other cards through the menu, sits across from Rafael, who has yet to receive any more teasing from the toy stuffed inside him. The ride to the bistro was silent save for the questions they shot back and forth and the banter that accompanied it. Sonny decided not to add it to the total since he asked for all of them. Plus, if anything, he would want to honor and dote on Rafael’s mouth, never reprimand. He welcomed their exchanges when he had a fair hand to play in them.

So there’s been no new tallies of punishment, and he hasn’t touched the remote since they left the bridge. And the effects are starting to show, from the impatient shuffle of his feet to the slight gnaw at his lower lip.

“Have you been here before?” Rafael asks. He had taken a few glances at the menu but he had been more focused on the ambiance around them than the food. Probably too distracted to read anything.

“A few times, back when I worked in Brooklyn,” he replies. “I only spent a month there, but I had lived in Flatbush since leaving the academy. I had a girlfriend who used to live up here and a boyfriend who liked to try hole-in-the-wall places for something new.” He shrugs at the last part, mulling over the sandwiches. “He was a Sagittarius, so. He liked checking out new places.”

“Do you keep up with astrology?”

Sonny shrugs. “A little. My sisters Bella and Gina are into it, so I know the signs and birth charts, but I don’t keep up with it.”

Rafael nods, chewing on his lip again. He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes scanning their table before landing back on Sonny. “Interesting.”

His curiosity gets the better of him and he leans forward, showing off his best smile to charm him. “Why do you ask? You got a secret obsession with them?”

Rafael huffs, and a sharp foot digs into his shin. “You were the one who mentioned it.” The sly curve of his mouth lasts a few seconds; Sonny is thankful he doesn’t notice his right hand drop off the table and to his pocket, sliding the vibrator on with a push of his thumb. Almost instantly, a shiver runs through his body and he doubles over, eyes clenched shut and hands tightening around the edges of the table. Sonny smirks in triumph and leans back, keeping his finger on the remote for now.

“I mean, it’s a fun little thing to talk about, y’know?” He muses. “Maybe it’s because my birthday’s already interesting enough that I never looked at Zodiac signs. My sisters always say I’m a textbook Pisces anyway.”

The reply is soft, only a small quiver underneath the words. “So, uh, what would that make me?” 

“Scorpio.” Sonny rests both elbows on the table to cross his arms; the remote presses against his palm, the buttons rubbing against his skin. Just a few more seconds. “Independent, passionate, intense. Some say a powerhouse.”

Rafael opens his eyes, blinking rapidly, and sits back up. He coughs into his fist to conceal his pleased groan. “Sounds familiar to me.”

Sonny cuts off the plug with a quiet laugh. Rafael visibly relaxes but still passes it off as something natural: a roll of his shoulders, a scratch of his cheek. “One down, five to go.”

“That’s all you got?” Rafael looks up at him with a snort. He looks shaken, definitely bothered by the vibrations as tame as it may have been, but he keeps his chin up and his gaze firm. Just like before, when Sonny tied him to a chair, his words are meant to be a ruse: he wants this; he craves it; if there is anyone he can trust to do it well, it’s Sonny.

Rather than respond to the question, Sonny picks up the menu and pockets the remote again. The waiter comes by with water and asks for their drink orders. To no surprise, Rafael requests a coffee, with caramel creamer on the side. Sonny waits until the waiter leaves to tease him about it. “Caramel, huh? Your favorite?”

Rafael shrugs, standing up briefly to remove his jacket. He sits down a bit more tenderly than before, probably to fix the position of the plug. “I suppose it would be, but more for sentimental reasons. My abuelita used to make it from scratch—if it got too loud at home, I would go to her place as a sort of refuge from the mess.” Rafael’s expression changes, whether from the mention of his grandmother or the sensitive topic, and he grows solemn. Sonny finds himself clinging to every word, relishing in the rare vulnerability, the exposure of a deeper side to the ever-powerful ADA. “When she still lived in Cuba, it was before the Revolution, and her family struggled financially. Rather than go out, they’d stay inside and make everything from scratch: cocktails, ice cream, blankets. She was so self-sufficient.” The faintest smile appears, tender and delicate. “I think the only woman stronger than her is Olivia Benson.”

“And that says a lot,” Sonny chuckles. Rafael shares the amusement, albeit sadder.

“She used to tell me that anything that came easy wasn’t worth doing. Even when she had the money to go out and buy something, she always preferred to make it. It…meant more to her.” Rafael falters, perhaps realizing how much he’s shared, and he shakes his head. “Anyway. I’d go to her apartment, up six flights of stairs in the same Bronx apartment she always lived in, and she’d teach me how to do something. She taught me Spanish, we played chess—if there was a baseball game on, she’d show me how to score—”

Sonny perks at the mention of baseball, and any semblance of dominance vanishes from his demeanor. “Wait, you score baseball games? Meaning you kept track of a sporting event without losing interest?”

Rafael scoffs. “I wanna talk about making caramel with  _ Abuelita _ , not how surprising it is that I know what a baseball is.”

“Alright, but let’s be fair, I haven’t heard you talk about sports ever. Every time Nick bad-talked the Mets, or Amanda came in with a Braves cap when they were playing here, and you had nothing to contribute?”

“As I said before,” he smirks, “ _ Abuelita _ always told me if something was easy, it wasn’t worth doing. Showing off my baseball knowledge and proving that I know more than you do despite being otherwise indifferent to sports? Child’s play.”

Sonny pouts, more as a tease than anything. They pause the conversation when their drinks arrive, and Sonny is reminded of the initial conversation when Rafael stirs in the creamer to his coffee. “So caramel?”

Rafael nods and hums as he takes a long sip of coffee. “For one Christmas dinner,  _ Abuelita _ let me help her make  _ crème caramel _ —flan—except I only wanted to eat the caramel, like every kid obsessed with sugar. So instead of letting me eat it all and ruin the recipe, she made me my own batch of tiny caramel candies, and I saved it for that night so I could hide under the covers and eat it without getting caught with candy in my room. And from there, it just became customary.”

He can’t help but smile at the growing fondness in his chest. There truly is no other person who could be more perfect, vulnerabilities and all, with a heart hidden under the deepest set of armor Sonny had ever laid eyes on. “You’re just full of surprises. First, you have untapped baseball knowledge—which has never been shared out loud, for the record—and then you show just how deep your love for caramel goes?” He shakes his head fondly, unable to resist smiling at the other man. “You’re a wonder to me.”

Rafael’s grin is warm and small, a sight only meant for Sonny, but he shoves it away with a clearing of his throat and straightens up. “Well, now that I revealed my deepest secret, how about you balance it out and embarrass yourself with me?”

Sonny laughs. “I wouldn’t call it embarrassment—when you live with three sisters, you become immune to a lotta things. I’m practically immune to anything.” He thinks back on something that Rafael doesn’t know about him, and he realizes how accurate his prediction was. He doesn’t know if there is anything he hasn’t shared with the lawyer. “I dunno. What is there about me that you don’t already know?”

Rafael joins in on the musings, hand resting on his chin and gaze wandering to the ceiling. Sonny takes the brief moment to finagle with the remote again, and he softly sets it on the second notch. A shiver wrecks through his body, eyes fluttering shut, but any sound is swallowed and held back. He manages a low “Christ” and sighs into his fist.

Sonny just continues with their conversation topic and tries to find something new about him to share with Rafael. “Did you know I used to play volleyball?”

Rafael shakes his head but a momentary jolt to the third level shoves a verbal reply out. “N-no, no, I didn’t.”

“Only sport I wanted to play. In high school, I used to head to The Y and play with an intramural team, since our high school only had a girls’ team.” A fond smile curves up. “Met my first boyfriend there, actually. I was only out to my sisters, he was just starting to understand his sexuality.”

“Someone I should be jealous of?” Rafael asks, fist clenched against his forehead. The plug is still only on the first setting, so he talks without a tremor to his voice, but the fidgeting hands and shifting legs tell another story.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Nah. He moved to Detroit after college. He’s a social worker who actually helps foster kids, his spouse finished transitioning last May. We talk on Facebook occasionally but that’s about it.”

For a moment, it seems like he isn’t going to get a response. Rafael has taken to holding the edge of the table and bowing his head, trying to control his breathing and regain some control. His knuckles are white from how hard he’s holding onto the table. Sonny is about to ask if he’s alright when his head raises, and he’s floored by the strength—the pure resolve—that has taken residence in Rafael. He clears his throat and rolls his shoulders. “Sounds like a good man.” He allows a slip of his emotions, a wisp of a smile that has a lingering sense of pride at his self-restraint. “You have good taste.”

Sonny leans forward so that only Rafael can hear, making sure to keep his tone level. “You’re doing really well with your toy. Do you like when I turn it on? Just wake it up and surprise you?” Rafael swallows audibly, and Sonny turns off the vibrations to give him a chance to speak. “You like how it’s just a taste of its strength, just enough to satisfy but not indulge?”

Rafael sighs and closes his eyes again, this time in bliss. It’s like the words flow from Sonny’s mouth and around them, creating a vortex made of the developing sexual tension and the beginnings of a hazy lust over their conversation. Each word is meant for his ears; each syllable is chosen and pronounced for him. Sonny wants to lather him in praise, not unlike the times they’ve played into his praise kink—and he’s simultaneously hit with a realization and an idea.

“Rafael,” he starts, unable to hide his smirk, “do you have a praise kink?”

The gasp is sharp, an inhale that pierces the air, accented by the glare that Rafael shoots him as soon as the words leave his mouth. “Absolutely not.” His stare hardens further into irritation when Sonny snickers in disbelief at him. “Why would you say that? How could you—” Rafael huffs, looking at the table with a pretty flush of red on his cheeks. “I don’t have a praise kink.”

Sonny rolls his shoulders and leans back. Although he has his doubts, based on their interactions last week and the reactions he got every time he rewarded him, he isn’t doing anything that Rafael rejects or denies. “Alright.” He thinks he sees a glint of regret in his eyes, always there to help him, even if for just a moment, but it vanishes without so much as a linger. “I believe you. So you wouldn’t mind if I punished you a bit longer, right?”

Rafael scowls and crosses his arms. “And here I thought we were having a pleasant conversation. Playing ‘Twenty Questions,’ getting to know each other.” The tone of his voice is pitying, almost what he would use towards a disappointing child. “I thought you were better than that.”

Sonny shrugs and nudges the plug onto the second setting. The reaction is instant—a suppressed grunt, curled hands into the crooks of his elbows, eyes shut in a contrast to the round shape of his mouth, sighing with a trembling bite. “I wanna play a different game.”

Their server comes back and asks if they’re ready to order; Sonny smiles at them and hands over his menu, citing some random option he saw on the first page. Rafael orders it as well, barely managing to spit it out, and gives their waiter a quick smile in thanks. His hands have wandered elsewhere, one gripping the edge of the table while the other digs into his hair and cards through the strands. The lustful look that stretches out from his pupils is borderline delirious.

“First date nerves?” Their waiter asks with a teasing grin. Sonny laughs in response and shrugs; Rafael hums in acknowledgment and stares at the bundle of tablecloth his fist is clenched around.

“They seem nice,” Sonny says with a sigh. As he guessed, he gets no reply—Rafael is focused on something else, particularly the buzzing toy that has to be thoroughly rubbing against his walls, striking him with each shift, just outside of his prostate. The toy had some length to it, but Sonny knew it wouldn’t be enough to touch the nerves, and it certainly didn’t compete with his dick. (And that wasn’t an ego thing. One of the first things Rafael had said to him when they first had sex was a comment on his size.) Just to be a tease, he reaches a hand forward at the same time he bumps the vibrations to the third level, lacing the concerned look he gives him with mirth and jest. “You alright? You’re spacing out a little.”

Rafael shudders, melting into his seat and bringing more of the tablecloth around his fingers. He manages a breathy “yeah” that is fraying from every buzz. His eyes shut—a shame, since they were the most expressive part of his body, and so beautiful too—and he chews on his lip again. Sonny catches the sign instantly: a few more seconds, one more notch of the settings, and he would fall apart.

Sonny turns the vibrations off. He wants to preserve their time here, space it out and ease into an orgasm. Besides, it would be a shame if their game ended early. “Raf? You good?”

Rafael, left panting and wound up, glares at him. If it were possible, the heat in his gaze would burn him down. “What the fuck was that for? I was close.”

“I think we’re good for now.” He makes a show of putting the remote in his pocket, leaning back and stretching his legs out so he can hide it. He softens his voice up when he adds, matched with a gentle smile and ounces of pride; “I’d say you made up with your snark from earlier. You did good.”

The soft groan that falls past his hand tells him more than words could have—Rafael enjoyed the praise directed at him. If Sonny could guess, he would say the reaction was a direct result of the approval, just the slightest nudge of recognition that honors his feelings. It was nothing to be embarrassed about, and Sonny wants to assure Rafael of that fact.

“So,” he sighs, drumming his fingers idly on the table, “since you did so well, how about we talk about rewarding you?”

“Rewarding me. Of course.” Rafael smirks, all sharp teeth and irritation. “And let me guess, climaxing isn’t part of it.”

“Do you want it to be?”

Rafael pauses, fidgeting with the napkin and looking down. Sonny lowers the domineering curve of his voice to ask his question. After eleven months of shared beds and sweaty nights, he’s comfortable saying he can read Rafael like a book. His eyes express the emotions his words are unable to form: the desire locked in hazel swarms, the want for more contact with bare hands to naked chests, the admiration and trust stretching out from blown pupils to the corners of his eyes. It’s all for Sonny to see.

Only him. Even now, the thought drives him crazy.

“Let’s say I do,” Rafael finally says. “But let’s also say that I want to experience every aspect of your toy before I do.”

“Yeah?” Sonny leans in so that their voices are trapped between them, covering them in innuendos and weighted by lust. “You want me to walk you to the edge and hold you over it?” Rafael shuts his eyes, but when he continues, they fly open again. “And right before you drop,” Sonny reaches across the table, fingers stretched across the stark white fabric of the tablecloth, tongue flitting over his lips, “I’ll drag you back. Keep you in place and let you writhe until you’re begging for me to throw you overboard and drench you in your own cum.”

He sighs, a puff of hot air that is nothing but aroused and bothered by the inability to treat it. It’s a real shame that they can’t do anything about it at the bistro. Maybe the bathroom can afford some privacy. Or even the car. “Well. Good to know your imagination is still intact.”

A manager stops by to ask how they are, and they pause their conversation to answer. Sonny waits until they leave, taking the reprieve to think of another plan. He wants to lull Rafael away from the ledge he’s standing on, to make him wait for approval to walk along the edge. If there’s any way for him to make this enjoyable, he’s hopping at the opportunity. “So, about baseball. Which team do you root for?”

Rafael chuckles under his breath. They still remain close, just a few inches between their hands, heads bowed towards each other. “I don’t have any loyalties. My father ruined the Yankees for me.  _ Abuelita _ always liked the underdogs, so she sided with the Mets. I don’t focus on it like I used to.” He scoffs and shrugs. “Besides, I haven’t scored in years.”

“Did you ever see a game in person?”

“I went to a Subway Series when Shea Stadium was still standing. Work-related,” he adds. He sits back up when Sonny eyes him with disbelief. “What? You doubt me? Am I disappointing as a partner?”

Sonny shakes his head. “Nah. I just think you’re being a little rough on yourself.”

“If you feel so strongly about it, you should take me out again.” There’s a flash of hesitance, a worried quiver of fear from the implication in his words, held in his eyes. “Maybe we can discuss the specifics of baseball a little more.”

“Maybe you can show me how to score.” He adds the comment with a wink and a sip of his soda. “Always wanted to track balls.”

Rafael, snickering, rolls his eyes affectionately. “I haven’t scored in years. I doubt I’d be any help.”

“You never know. It has to be subconscious by now, right?”

“Perhaps.” He idly stirs his coffee and hums to himself. “We could even run a few bases ourselves.”

Sonny’s eyebrows raise at the innuendo. “I think we’ve had a few games already, don’t you think?”

“As bed partners, to steal your clever wording.” Rafael gulps down the rest of his coffee, never taking his eyes from Sonny. “Not as…” He pauses, a brief moment of thought, and he lets out a long breath. “Well. Whatever comes after this.” A gesture between them, bordering on nonchalant but avoiding embarrassment.

“You mean, like…actual partners?” Sonny suggests. When he gets a shrug, noncommital and casual, he presses on. “Boyfriends?”

Rafael’s nose scrunches up. Sonny has the sudden urge to kiss the tip of it, shower him with relief and ease his concern. “That word just…” He clears his throat. “But yes, boyfriends. Even if it feels strange to use that term when I’m in my mid-forties, the implication is the same.”

Well. That was one way to say it. “Huh.” Sonny straightens up so he can look at the lawyer properly. “Maybe it wasn’t the best way to court someone, but hey,” he shrugs, “a prosecutor and a detective walk into a bar.”

“The prosecutor tries to keep his guard up, but the detective knows all the different ways to get under his skin and remove his armor with each dimpled smile.”

“Are you saying that’s a bad thing?”

He grins, amused and coy altogether. “Never.”

Sonny reaches into his lap; he doesn’t even need to reach for his pocket for Rafael to spring up and eye him with excitement. “I hope it isn’t. Otherwise, I would have a lot of apologizing.”

“Would you?” A glint of green, a glance at his hand that’s made of nerves and expectation. “All for me?”

“Just for you.” Sonny stretches his hand out further on the table and brings the plug to the middle setting. Rafael’s hands grab him instantly, digging into the meat of his wrists and clawing against his skin. He shuts his eyes, breathing in shakily, and he smiles. “I don’t have anyone else. Ever since we started this, I haven’t seen thought of anyone else.”

“I wouldn’t blame you,” Rafael sighs, shifting his hips, “if you ever did.” His eyes open again, shining bright and warm with adoration, teetering towards giving in and pleading. “A bitter prosecutor who brought you down for half the time you’ve known him?”

“Raf, I have three sisters. You haven’t done nearly enough to scare me away.”

“That’s, ah,” he wraps his lips around a muffled cry, shivering from the sensation, “that’s rather bold of you to say.” He pauses when Sonny scoots his chair closer, bringing it parallel to the table. “You’re giving me a challenge.”

“You won’t complete it.” Sonny gives his hand a squeeze and runs his thumb over the top of his hand, slow and soothing. “Your mouth is sharp, but it doesn’t scare me.”

Rafael smiles; the gesture is soft and gentle, filled with tender assurances despite the burning attraction flowing from his eyes. “It better not. I have a lot more material to share.”

“Good.” He increases the vibrations with a sickeningly sweet smile. Rafael throws his head back and bites down on his lower lip. Sonny just misses the trembling groan that slips out. “I expect nothing less from you.”

“God.” Rafael curls his fingers around his wrist and scrapes against his skin like a cat stretching its claws. The way his eyes cross encourages a soft laugh from Sonny and a short peck against his forehead. “Just a little more. Please.”

“Move your hips for me. Grind your ass on the chair.” Rafael does just that, making it look natural, second-nature, and wraps a hand around his mouth to stop the cry from leaping out of him. Sonny grins and massages the soft inside of his arm. “Just like that. Reminds me when you were tied to the chair and could only move so much. You were more secure there.” He leans forward, elbows propped up on his knees, and mouths along his jawline. His stomach jumps when he hears the curt moan land hot against his neck. “Do you like it when I limit you? Keep you from doing what you want? The only thing you can do is listen to me,” he reaches for his knee, and when Rafael grabs his elbow, he scoots his palm up his thigh, “and take what I give you.” He accents the statement with a prod against his crotch, right where the plug would be. 

Rafael whines, pure and unrestricted and grounding. “And mouth off,” he adds, breathless and airy. It’s a wonder he even manages to speak. The arousal that almost tipped him over the edge returns, sharp as ever, and expands his pupils.

Sonny snorts and moves back to look him in the eyes. Wide and desperate for more than this. Absolutely delightful. “Oh really? You think you can say something to me like this?” Leaning back, arms crossing in front of him, he smirks at Rafael and tilts his head to the side. “Go ahead. Try it.”

With an audible swallow, Rafael stares at the ceiling and heaves out a wet breath. Before he can say anything, Sonny slides the level up, waits for the buck and the eyes tightly shut, and lowers it back down. He chokes on an offended gulp of air and glares at him. “Not when you do that.”

“Mm.” Sonny grimaces, more to taunt him than anything, and shrugs. “You don’t have a say in that, though.”

“You’re such a twerp.” Another flick to the fourth setting, the second-highest level on the remote, another gasp and a desperate roll of his hips. Rafael moves his chair forward to hide his legs and shudders when it jostles the toy. Sonny lowers it to the level below just to watch him groan in frustration and glare at him through his eyelashes. “Are you going to let me speak, or are you going to keep on badgering me?”

“Are you gonna object to it?”

Rafael rolls his eyes. “You’re an absolute bastard.”

“Well, better than  _ not _ being one, so I can still do this.” He raises the vibrations back to the fourth level and pockets the remote. Their waitress stops by to drop off their food—some sub named after a random town in Italy—and offers to refill his coffee. Rafael only nods, rubbing his temple as if to cover up his behavior with a migraine. Sonny turns the vibrator off and fakes concern when a deep groan of disappointment erupts from him. “You alright?”

“Oh, I’m doing great, Carisi,” he grunts through gritted teeth. The hold he wraps around one-half of the sandwich is firm and harsh. Led to the edge and dragged away again. “I love it when you play games with my ass.” He eyes the pickle slice on the side of his plate and, with help from his napkin, drops it on Sonny’s plate. “You have it.”

Sonny laughs at the reaction. “You ordered it. Maybe you should have gotten something you were actually going to eat.” He bites into his sandwich to hide his amusement from the mildly amused snickers.

“Go ahead and blame me. It’ll do you a lick of good later.”

“Don’t worry, I still have plans. And,” he points to his pocket, “I still got that toy to play with, so,” Sonny rolls his shoulders and takes another bite of the sub, leaving the sentence hanging in the air. He doesn’t comment on the pointed stare shot his way but they resume eating in silence. Sonny isn’t going to turn the plug on while they’re eating; plus, if he wants this to last a bit longer, he’ll have to space out his teasing.

The promise to himself seems to come across well: their conversation flows nicely, if a bit stifled when Rafael accepts that he isn’t getting anything else for the time being. Sonny does a good chunk of the talking, mostly about his sisters, but Rafael is clearly intrigued, asking questions and laughing at the various stories he shares. It feels like a date—two people, mutually interested in one another, sharing insight about their lives. If he were to close his eyes, if he were to actually give himself the opportunity, Sonny could shut his eyes and imagine it being a regular occurrence. They could see movies, take long walks, hold hands over homemade pasta. They could have something.

“How often do you go to church?” Rafael asks. They had decided to split a chocolate chip cookie after they finished their lunch. Sonny had taken the check quickly and didn’t even let the lawyer look at it. He had guaranteed lunch would be taken care of, after all.

“Why, you wanna join me?” He teases with no real bite. “I can warm up the pew for you.”

Rafael shakes his head. “Just wondering. I don’t think the church could forgive me for my years of separation.”

“You’d be surprised. Good old Catholic forgiveness and all that.”

“Hm.” He brushes off a few crumbs from his fingers. “Yeah, I remember that much. I still have nightmares about the Catholic guilt.” Rafael pauses, drums against the table, and straightens up with one fluid motion. He flinches when he shifts in his chair, probably rustling against the plug. “I have thought about it. If we became exclusive, of course.”

Sonny nods in agreement. “Of course.” They have too much to talk about to confirm the inner workings of their relationship. They can address it later, without taking it off the table. “I didn’t take you for a compromise type of guy.”

“Don’t see it as a compromise. See it as…an opportunity to try things out of my comfort zone.”

“But you wouldn’t be doing it if it weren’t for me. That sounds like a compromise to me.”

“Sure, but…” Rafael sighs deeply. “Look. Let’s say we enter an exclusive relationship. Once you enter a partnership with someone that includes romantic interactions, you become a team. You’re still your own person, but you form a new one when you enter exclusivity. If we became exclusive, it would include the two of us as individuals and as a single unit. We have to give and take with each other’s interests. Besides,” he adds, “if it were a compromise, I wouldn’t be as willing to do it.”

Sonny doesn’t know how many times he’s fallen for Rafael Barba in a single hour. But if he kept track, he’d say this date was the most he’s realized it in any amount of time that they’ve spent together. And to think, almost a year ago, they were dancing around innuendos and making out in his office. “I was joking last month when I said Rafael Barba doesn’t have emotions. You know that, right?”

Rafael chuckles. “Of course I do. I think I said as much.”

“I forgot. Mind explaining it for me?”

“I do mind. Your memory should help you out on that.” Rafael lifts his water and starts to take a sip, but he stops when Sonny resumes the teasing buzzes delivered from the toy. He practically slams his water back down on the table, keening, one hand dropping to the front of his pants.

Sonny simply leans his elbows on the table and watches him melt into the plug. He could watch the scene all day—twisting limbs, muffled cries that burst at the slightest prod and ooze with noise, the fleeting expression of utter euphoria and wanton lust that scream for his attention. But he wants Rafael to come more than anything. He wants to watch him crumble, from the toy alone, no outside help. He wants him to know what it feels like, how raunchy it is, how dirty he’ll be, how pleased he’ll feel once it’s over once the initial bout of embarrassment evaporates.

He’s been saving it for the entire day. Finally, he can give Rafael exactly what he’s been looking forward to. But before he can, he has to double-check that he wants it, that he’s as thirsty for it as Sonny, dried from the wait and desperate to quench his urges. Sonny reaches into his jacket and fingers the remote. If Rafael recognizes the motion, he doesn’t acknowledge it, too focused on little hops in his chair and small rolls of his hips against the seat.

“Do you want to come?” Sonny asks, a low whisper, polite and clear in his demand. Rafael nods, eyes shut and hands clasped together, pressed against his forehead. How unfortunate; he drops the plug’s strength two levels, and Rafael nearly screams at him. “C’mon, Rafael, you know better. Verbal responses only.”

“God, you’re insufferable,” he groans. With a roll of his neck and a silent plea in his eyes, he looks up at Sonny. “Please. Let me come already.”

The plea is wet with arousal, doused in desperation and worn from being so thoroughly wrecked for the hour they’ve been out. Sonny can do nothing but answer his call: he sets the toy on the fifth setting, leans back, and watches the show.

Rafael breaks apart beautifully, shuddering at the highest level of vibrations and arching in his spot. His mouth forms around a cry but no sound comes out, just small hiccups of bliss and gratitude. When he fixes his gaze on Sonny, his eyes are wild, blinking rapidly, shining in the overhead light. He is lost in the current, the constant waves crashing over him, giving himself up to the sensation, and Sonny remains at the center, his point of safety. He can let go here and fall securely. He can release and not have to worry about how vulnerable he is.

It takes two deep breaths, a long run of pleasure down his spine, and Rafael shuts his eyes and curls in on himself. When they’re limited in available space, it’s the best way for him to move. Typically, when he’s able to, Rafael arches when he comes, back curving or hips thrusting up or forward. If they have unconventional positions, Rafael turns in on himself to prevent bumping into anything or taking down a shelf or two. This time, in public, he tries to limit attention to himself with an inward curve of his body and a choked moan. Sonny is surprised at how well he can keep himself together while looking like a wrecked mess: wiggling in his chair, hiding cries that only Sonny’s ears can pick up, absolutely spoiled from the attention from all-around, altogether ruined and wrecked.

God. One more thought like that and he’d be staining his own pants. Again. Three times is a pattern.

“I get it,” Rafael heaves, running a hand through his hair once the vibrations stop and he’s steadied his breath. “Why you didn’t complain when you came in your pants.” His sigh is overflowing with satisfaction, and the look he shoots him is full of nothing but gratitude. “Thank you.”

Sonny scrambles to pay the check and drag Rafael out of there as fast as he can.

* * *

Their time for lunch does not last an hour. Sonny would worry about it if he wasn’t riding Rafael Barba in the car and reapplying the hickey he had given him last time. They had pulled into a parking garage, somewhere less public and dark enough to allow them to fuck. There’s nothing slow or gentle about it, Sonny notes, just like the sex they had after untying Rafael from the chair. It’s rough and fast and loud: Rafael, splayed out on his back, passenger seat stretched backward, vibrator going off inside his ass, dick buried deep in Sonny’s, clawing at his back and whining every time pale thighs slam onto him; Sonny, toying with the plug, biting into the pretty neck, hopping off of Rafael’s cock like a jackhammer, perfectly accessible from the maroon panties he had bought that have an opening in the back for situations like this.

Rafael nearly came on sight when Sonny wiggled out of his pants and revealed the lingerie. It really did make him look good.

“There we go,” Sonny growls against his neck, lapping at the spot he had been gnawing at. Rafael groans, breathless, at the motion. “Good as new.”

“Mark me,” he begs in a low voice. He tries to roll up, but Sonny clenches his thighs together and stops him from moving. “Jesus, Sonny, please—” His plea gets cut off when the plug buzzes between different levels. He digs into his back and scrapes against the skin at the ministrations applied to his worn walls. Sonny mewls at the contact and nothing more; he doesn’t want to ruin his plans.

“We’re gonna wait for that. Can you do that? Wait a whole minute so I can watch you fall apart?” Rafael is nodding vigorously before he even finishes. Sonny reaches behind himself to spread his ass as he seats himself again and falters so he can accent his words; the strangled cry does not disappoint him. “You can follow orders, right?”

“Yeah.” Eyes shut, hands taut and bruising, he melts. Beautiful as ever.

Sonny rewards him with a kiss, sloppy, dragging their tongues together. The movement is half-delirious from Rafael’s end, complete with an appreciative rub against the lingerie plastered to his skin. Sonny hums in encouragement at the light pats; Rafael gets a bit bolder, massaging the space where his ass curves up into his dick, and Sonny lets his mouth run its course. “God, you’re so thick. You think my dick is impressive, but you haven’t had the pleasure of riding your own.”

Rafael swallows when he grabs himself and raises the vibrations. His body writhes for attention, his throat leaks with cries, and he dissolves into his own babble. “Tight, s-so tight, fuck,” he pants. His eyes roam everywhere—his bare chest, shirt hanging off his shoulders, tie barely undone and dangling, muscles shining with sweat and chest thrumming with energy. Sonny relishes in the attention—desperate for it, even—and grins when that skilled mouth just keeps going. “You’ve taken such good care of me. God, and your lingerie.” His fingers ghost over it as if to remind himself of its presence and sear it into his memory. “Maroon looks wonderful on you, so nice, so nice, fuck—”

“You gonna come for me?” Sonny asks, petting his hair and leaning over him. Rafael nods and lets out a quiet “yes” in response. “Yeah? Gonna throb inside me, gonna let the toy tear you apart? While I just sit back and watch?”

“N-no, not the toy, just you.” Rafael holds onto his shoulders, throwing his head back at a thrust that coincides with a deep thrust. “All I need is you to take me down. Tear me apart.” His fingers flutter over the hickey, and in case he misses, he runs circles around the area. “These toys can only do one thing. You’re so much better than that.” Just when he thinks he can’t handle any more than this, those hazel eyes meet his and gleam, irresistible and overflowing with emotion. “You’re everything.”

It’s a blanket term, and he knows Rafael would never say it outside of this moment, but the implication is clear to him. They are more than bed partners at this point, more than flings and nights of bare chests and lazy sex at the break of dawn. Their relationship is filled with so many “more than”s that he drowns in them and, even when they talk things out, there’s no way they can reach the bottom of that pile. At least they’ll be in it together. Both as their own individuals and as a team, a single unit.

Sonny has to grab the head of his cock when his climax knocks into him, making sure that he catches it all in his palm and doesn’t stain either of their clothes. Rafael has much more space to move with his orgasm and, finally, arches in the air, back curved and pulsing in time with the vibration. The sounds are erotic, the aroma is filthy, but Sonny grins when Rafael holds him down by the maroon straps of his lingerie so he can get a few more squeezes around his dick before he pulls out.

Rafael, already sitting up and pulling the anal plug out, takes the remote and shuts it off. Sonny flops to the driver seat, careful not to spill the cum he caught. It takes a few seconds to register that he’s holding it up in offering, and Rafael grabs his wrist so he can pull his hand closer and suck every digit clean. His tongue smooths over every crease between his fingers, lapping at his palm. Rafael makes quick work of it but seems to relish in each motion of his tongue. He slides over the pads of each finger, slurps against each one, bobs his head so he can scrape his teeth along the skin. He removes his hands with an erotic pop, smacks his lips, and smiles.

“Delicious.”

If he hadn’t already come, that would have done it for him.

* * *

Sonny is working a late shift. He knows this. Another detective needed Saturday off, so Sonny sacrificed a free weekend and switched with him. It was noble, and of course he would do something to help a fellow officer out in his own way. Rafael is only a bit disappointed that they can’t see each other immediately.

Luckily, he makes up for it.

Rafael takes a picture—a dark blue sweater hanging off his shoulders and dangling over his hips, revealing just a peek of lacy blue that cups his dick so nicely and hugs his ass. Actually, he muses after a second more of admiration, his ass looks amazing. He takes another picture of his backside and sends both pictures to Sonny.

_ Thanks for the panties. Blue looks good on me. _

Rafael isn’t sure when he started being sappy, but he isn’t adding any comment on Sonny’s eyes. That would be too far.

The reply he gets is instantaneous, and absolutely everything he wanted.

_ When can I take it off with my teeth? _

_ How soon can you get here? _

_ Be there in ten. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can tell we're getting to the end because they literally went on a date and talked about going on a date lmaooooo
> 
> Also if you want more lingerie!Barisi, have no fear! Chapter seven exists 😎😎,😎


	7. Worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Technically,” Rafael raises a hand, “you said no gifts, and you don’t have to see this as a gift. And because it’ll take me a little longer to recover, you won’t have to worry about taking care of me.”
> 
> “Raf—”
> 
> “You always do. And I really do appreciate that, Sonny. Your kindness knows no bounds.” He starts to say more, but Sonny wraps his arms around him and holds him against his chest. Rafael isn’t going to force him away even if he wanted to. “Let me treat you. Let me honor you. Let me worship you. For all the times I couldn’t give back, let me do it this one time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make up for not updating this in a month, I have an 18k chapter with smut and angst and hopefully some parts of a conclusion to this story and where it takes place in the timeline
> 
> So I've been good with updating this fic and normally I would write out the whole thing and then post but I figured "hey, it's smut, what if we Don't Do That" so I posted as I wrote, but then November came, and I decided to do NaNoWriMo and in my rush to update that daily, I hit a bit of a snag in this fic so it fell through the cracks. BUT rest assured, it is possible to write 30K for NaNoWriMo and update your smut fest fic, so it all worked out in the end
> 
> Shout out to soul_writerr for yelling at me through DMs and helping me get through my writer's block! I honestly might have updated this in December if she hadn't helped me and I'm so thankful for that <3
> 
> Because half of this fic is made up of the tags, the smut in this chapter includes: lingerie, light bondage (frogtie), rimming, facials, and a vibrator B)
> 
> CAUTION WARNING for some mentions of nightmares (very beginning), SVU cases, and scars (brief mention somewhere in the middle of the smut section; a minor reference to the bully mentioned in "Great Expectations")

They wait two days after their lunch date and preemptive car sex in an unmarked police car to see each other after work. Only two weeks remain before Sonny’s birthday, and Rafael only has half an idea formed to treat him. So far, all of it has surrounded those goddamn legs—so lengthy, so lean, sculpted from marble—and plump ass—firm, smooth, possibly the only naturally round shape in existence—but the only idea that sticks is the lingerie. Maroon looks good on anyone, but Rafael is convinced Sonny was born for it.

Unfortunately, their first shared words after work hours is not a pleasant conversation but a loud buzz from his phone. If it hadn’t been for the sound knocking against the bedside table and Cashew nudging it with her nose, he might have missed it. Rafael sits up, squinting at Sonny’s name, and answers with a weak, “Hello.”

“_I know you’re sleeping and I’m super sorry,_” comes the rushed reply, and Rafael shoots up from the fear laced between those words. “_But I just needed to talk to you._”

“Is everything alright?” He asks. He knows it isn’t, not with that amount of fright or a tremor like that.

“_Kinda, um._” There’s a shift, a hot breath, and then Sonny whispers, “_Just…some bad thoughts, I guess._”

Rafael is halfway out of bed before the question leaves his lips; “Do you need me there with you?”

“_N-no, uh, I could actually, um…I could come over, if you’ll have me. I need to get outta here for the night._”

Rafael softens immediately, his heart twisting at the tender voice, and he cannot handle a world where that man doesn’t have a request like that fulfilled. So shy and cautious. So fearful of rejection.

And that’s how they end up, two days after their first real date, at 2 AM, with Sonny wrapped up in Rafael’s arms, his ear close to his chest to hear his heartbeat and his hands coiled tightly against his skin. Their legs are tangled in Rafael’s sheets, as they have done many times before, except their lack of clothing is from a simple (and rather bashful) request rather than the throes of sexual desire. Rafael has no qualms, not when Sonny’s running his fingers through the soft curls of hair on his chest and the one request he’s made is for Rafael to hold him tight and never let go. As if he had any other way to embrace him.

Sonny didn’t explain anything. Once Rafael invited him inside, all soft reassurances and quiet concern, a heavy weight eased off of his shoulders and he was a bit more forward in his affection. But he stays silent as if waiting for the right moment, reasons lingering on his tongue, words spinning in his mind. Rafael would never push him to reveal anything or share his thoughts when he wasn’t ready. He only provides physical support through entwined limbs and gentle kisses and koala hugs—he even uses the term of endearment in an attempt to cheer him up and earns a soft curve of thin lips. Sonny sighs every time their lips meet, never lasting long but always lazy and soft, and pecks the left side of his chest before putting his head down again.

Rafael runs a hand through Sonny’s hair, watching the dark blond mingle with silver between his fingers and fall from his grasp like petals plucked from a sunflower. The tension at the crease of his eyebrows has relaxed but his fingers still move a bit too stiffly over his clavicle. Rafael takes the small victories, especially with the silent issues that sneak under his skin and grip at every inch of him until nothing remains but a bare structure of bones and muscles.

Sonny barely moves when he finally speaks up. He recites the words into his chest; Rafael follows them with the slight tickle they apply to his skin. “You ever have a case so bad, it haunts you? Even though it’s settled and there’s not a lot that can be done about it now?”

“I’ve had my fair share of them, yes,” he replies, just as quiet to prevent disturbing the mood. “Coming from Fordham, you’ve probably heard all about the Muñoz scandal.”

“Yeah, I did. You were friends, weren’t you?”

Rafael nods. He keeps his hand at the back of Sonny’s neck to steady him, to solidify his resolve in resistance to the bubble of emotions brewing in his chest. “Me, Alex, and our friend Eddie. _Los tres mosqueteros_.” He shuts his eyes, the case coming back to him in a wave: the look on Alex’s face when he confronted him, the look on Eddie’s when he warned him and separated him from Alex, all the whispered hate and sizzling stares he received every time he visited _ el barrio _. The nightmares ceased after a while, but every now and again, he’ll jolt awake from a false memory of Alex leaving him to bullies that were seven feet tall and pushing him down the courthouse steps. He didn’t like to think about how much time he spent telling his therapist all about it.

“So,” Sonny says, running a light pattern against his chest, the tip of his finger swirling against dark brown wisps, “you get it.” He pauses, ear still pressed against Rafael’s chest. “I had nightmares after Mike got shot. I would, um…” Sonny takes a deep breath, squeezes his grip around his middle, lets out a long breath, “I would dream that I was the one who went instead of Mike. Or they kept on needing blood donors, but it was never enough, so they kept on taking bag after bag from me—”

Rafael brings both arms around him and holds Sonny closer, hoping the crease in his brow isn’t seen as a sign of weakness but a sign of how close the statement hits home. He had his fair share of dreams featuring officers who had gotten hurt on the job, none of which had chased him as Mike Dodds had. Maybe it was because Manhattan SVU had wrangled closer to him than any other squad he had worked with. Maybe because Mike was one of the good cops, the ones who reminded him a little too much of Sonny: always eager to help, no matter what, and always happy to please.

Sonny returns the gesture with a quiet hum. “He was a good one.” His voice cracks at the end, hidden with a soft nuzzle of his nose against his pec. “It doesn’t bother me too much now. Only on the anniversary.”

“Mm.” Rafael rubs the back of Sonny’s head as a distraction from every possible scenario that could have formed in his subconscious and presented itself as a nightmare. He has made a home at SVU, has proven himself time and again, but Rafael knows that could be used for fodder as much as its use for pleasantries. As much as it breaks his heart that Sonny would be so prone to bad dreams, he knows it was only a matter of time before it happened to those close to him and still alive. “So your nightmare tonight.”

“Yeah.” Another deep breath and Sonny turns partially into him. “That case we picked up, the one with the parents who took their own child’s life?”

“Is that what it’s about?”

When Sonny doesn’t nod but still continues, he takes it as a silent confirmation. “I keep on imagining that kid. He was only a baby, but he couldn’t survive without the machines.” The look watery blue eyes shoot him sends a chill up Rafael’s spine. The next words don’t help either. “We were standing at the foot of the bed. You had the cord to the machines in your hand. I watched you pull it.” Sonny gulps and presses his face down into his chest again. Rafael tightens his hold. “You were tried for murder. You weren’t convicted, but…you just left. Like you were never here.”

“Sonny.” It’s far from foreign to say his name, but something unsettling falls in his mouth. His tongue feels heavy and useless, and his hands dig into his shoulders to counter the sensation. But if Sonny hears him, he doesn’t reply, continuing on instead.

“We weren’t allowed near the case—Lieu didn’t want us involved because she felt responsible for it. You didn’t answer my calls. I didn’t…I couldn’t…” Sonny sucks in air between his teeth, fists curling and digging into him. Rafael winces but stays quiet. The amount of sadness at this fictional moment in time is upsetting to watch unfold. “I knew it was a dream, I know there’s nothing we could have done, but I can’t…the thought of not being there for you—”

“Hey,” Rafael whispers softly, sitting up in bed and moving Sonny with him, “it’s okay.” Sonny, breath heaving and eyes wet, starts to shake his head, but Rafael cuts him off. He wants to hear all that his companion has to say, but the nightmare is clearly too much for Sonny to continue with. “There’s nothing here that can hurt you. I’m still right here.” He reaches over, his palm upturned as an offering. Sonny grips it like a life force, the only thing keeping him from drowning in sorrow. “See? Right here.”

Sonny’s arms surround him, long like pasta noodles and thin like angel hair. His calves lock at the small of his back, and his arms hold onto his neck tautly. Rafael returns the gesture, one hand gripping the back of Sonny’s head to hold him against him. A few drops of water fall on his shoulder but he doesn’t bring it up. He’s just as unnerved by the ordeal, even if he would never make a decision like that for someone else.

Rafael kisses his cheek and shuts his eyes. “As long as you’re here, you’re safe. No matter what those nightmares tell you. I’m right here with you.”

Voice trembling, shoulders raising, Sonny gives a damp grunt and says nothing else. Instead, he lets the silence wash over both of them and clog the air. Rafael wishes he could remove any memory of the nightmare from Sonny’s mind; it sounds too real, feels too close to home, strikes him at the possibility that, in some other universe, it could happen. He shakes the thoughts away immediately. Reminiscing on that sort of thing wouldn’t help either of them.

“Dreams like that are only trying to scare us. That’s why they can feel so real at times. This happens to everyone.”

“Maybe,” Sonny whispers. “Doesn’t make it any less traumatic.”

Rafael shakes his head in agreement. “Of course not. I’ve had my fair share. Not just from the Muñoz case.” He pauses, briefly toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Is there anything you need from me?”

Sonny mumbles a quiet “no” into his shoulder. “Just…hold me, I guess.”

He chuckles. “I can do that.” He adds an extra squeeze to the end of his comment and pecks his forehead. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

It takes a while for Sonny to relax again, but Rafael stays with him the entire time. He feels tired, limbs heavy and eyes groggy, but he stays awake until Sonny is lying against him again, naked legs tangled under the sheets, eyelashes brushing delicately across his cheeks while he slumbers. Rafael is more than happy to keep still—if Sonny was awake, maybe he would admire how amusing it was to be spooning the taller man, or the attempt to take his koala title away from him. Maybe tomorrow. Rafael kisses his head and holds Sonny close, hoping the energy he sends his way will prevent any nightmares from breaking through and haunting him again.

In the morning, Rafael calls Carmen to let her know he’ll be in later in the day. He lets Sonny sleep a few extra hours, buys him a breakfast sandwich from the deli on the corner, and prepares a mug of coffee for him. Dressed in the pajamas he had originally worn last night, Rafael sits up in bed and does as much work as he can with the materials at his disposal. Sonny only stirs when he gets up to go to the bathroom, eyes bleary and lips stretching around a yawn.

“Sorry,” Rafael says softly, sitting back down gingerly on the bed. Sonny shakes his head and reaches out for him. Rafael takes his hand and pecks his fingers.

“What time is it?” Sonny asks.

“Quarter to ten. I figured you needed the sleep if you’re going to be an effective detective.”

Sonny smirks at that, a relieving sign, and rolls over to grab the headboard of the bed. “Thanks. At least I only missed two hours of my shift, yeah?”

“I thought of holding off the firing squad for that, but I didn’t want to impose on your privacy.”

“Don’t worry about it. We were all shaken up by it.” Sonny takes a deep breath, eyes searching the ceiling. “I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“One can hope.” Rafael reaches over to caress his cheek. Sonny leans into the motion and sighs, sounding much more peaceful and content than last night. “A therapist would probably understand too.”

“Yeah. I got an appointment on Friday.” His fingers brush against the red mark he had reapplied on his clavicle peeking out from his t-shirt, admiring it almost fondly. “Don’t worry, I’m taking care of myself.”

Rafael smiles; the hitch in Sonny’s breath does not go unnoticed, but he doesn’t mention it. “Well. That’s a relief.”

Sonny laughs quietly and sits up again, rolling his shoulders with a soft groan. “Well. Crime doesn’t wait for me to catch up.”

“I hope you’re not going in with your pajamas. A perp could pull your pants off just by looking at them.”

The soft jab earns him a pinch from Sonny. At least he’s well enough for a bit of verbal sparring. “Uh-huh. I got a few pieces in my car I can work with.”

“Good.” Rafael hesitates but leans down to kiss the point of his nose, eyes half-lidded and tender as he presses his lips to the edge. Sonny smiles, rather goofily, and giggles quietly at the gesture. “I have breakfast and coffee for you when you’re ready.”

“Thanks.” It’s not until he stands and turns, prepared to go into his closet to look for his own outfit for the day, when Sonny speaks up again. “Hey, Raf?”

Rafael turns to look at him with a questioning hum. Something fond sprouts in his chest at the sight of Sonny in his bed. It’s not a foreign sight at all, especially bare of clothing, but the way the sheets gather around him, the contrast of the navy blue sheets to pale skin that looks smooth like marble in the morning light, hit him differently now. If he saw that sight every day, if he could feel Sonny in his bed, he would take any excuse to stay under the covers with him and layer his skin with kisses and trace each peck with his fingers. Nothing but those legs caging him in and framing his head. The image alone, paired with shining blue eyes, dries his throat.

“I know you never would. But if you did…” Sonny takes a deep breath and bows his head. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

Sonny doesn’t provide context for the statement. He doesn’t need to. Rafael only nods, offers a grim smile, and starts to get dressed for work.

* * *

Rafael spends a good few days thinking of the best way to make up for the nightmare. The fact that he had been included in something so unnerving was compelling him to do something—dare he say it—nice for Sonny. The timing is aligned nicely for his birthday at least, and while Sonny hadn’t asked him for anything, it seems fitting that he finds something to make his day a bit more special. Unfortunately, the distribution of that time during the day was not exactly right. Rafael was spending his time after work hours to think of ways to please Sonny: in the shower, on the elevator, in his Lyft. Aside from the fact that he was perfectly distracted by his workload, he didn’t need any outside distractions.

“I can get you a warrant for that,” he says when he strolls into SVU’s precinct, nodding to the wall of notes Rollins is scribbling on. With the amount of time he’s spent in it this week, from interrogations to debriefings on open cases going to trial, he may as well own the squad room. The case he’s referring to involves a country club in the Upper East Side and their employees. “You have enough evidence to prove that management used their connections with high-end socialites to silence their accusers. You show this to a judge, there’s no way they won’t let you search the place and take a look at their membership list.”

Rollins, who had looked sullen when he entered, perks up at the information. “Hey, thanks, Counselor,” she offers a smile, the tension draining from her shoulders. “You have no idea how helpful that is. It’s been…” She lets out a long sigh and drags a hand over her face, “a little crazy. I got more sleep when Jessie was a newborn.”

“That’s pretty impressive.” He follows her to the breakroom, immediately grabbing the bag of nugget pretzels in the middle of the table. Rollins chuckles under her breath and inserts a dollar and a few quarters into the drink machine. “If that’s the case, though, there shouldn’t be much difference between Bigsby and your toddler.”

Rollins smirks. “We haven’t made any arrests yet and you’re already coming on strong with the insults?”

“We all need practice. And for both our sakes, it never happened.” The detective rolls her eyes while Rafael opens the bag and tosses a pretzel in his mouth. “Liv’s still out, I assume?”

“She should be back any minute.” Rollins presses a button for a soda and checks her watch. “She and Carisi were checking up on a victim from another case. Dennings, I think?”

“The hair-puller giving out tips to working girls on how to not be raped.” Rafael bites back a sound of disgust and bites into another pretzel. “Three counts of assault pled out, a hundred hours of community service, and the system thinks he’s learned his lesson.” Rollins stares at him, and he reaffirms his stance with a firm nod. “Nail the bastard with as much as you can. I’ll love to prosecute him, but I want him off the streets for good.”

Rollins smirks and walks out of the break room to greet Liv and Sonny. Rafael follows after her, barely able to form a greeting when he catches sight of Sonny’s appearance and the mere existence of his legs. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, his stride is long and gangly, and the rough accent that spews from his mouth is a bit too much for Rafael to handle.

He’s seen him multiple times already—not just as coworkers, but in multiple states of undress, and with multiple locations over the almost twelve months of their extensive personal relationship. He’s removed so many articles of clothing from Sonny’s body—pants, shirt, tie, vest, socks, a fucking parka doused in melted snow—that a pair of pants and rolled sleeves should not surprise him. It should not send a shiver down his spine and shove an audible gasp from his lips. And it should definitely not spill his pretzels onto the floor and scatter them over the tiles.

Rollins is already bending down to help him clean them up. Sonny looks torn between helping him and laughing, and settles for the former, scooting the small trash can by his desk over to them and grabbing the few that had rolled under the desk. “Bit clumsy there, Counselor,” he teases. Rafael scoffs and spares him a parting glance as he tosses the dirtied snacks into the garbage.

Now that Liv is back, and Fin has all the required papers for their meeting, Rafael exchanges the information he has—this case is winnable, but there isn’t enough in that one for a warrant—for his own knowledge—they have a plea from one case, finally, but one of their eyewitnesses in a separate case is hesitant to go to trial and will need some convincing. Thankfully, none of them notice—or, at the very least, fail to comment on—the blush on his cheeks that only fades once he returns to some type of normalcy and exchanges quips with them. He’s shrugging on his jacket when he gets a text from Sonny. He steals a glance at the taller man, sitting at his desk and scrolling through something on his computer, before he opens it.

_ I thought we were trying to be subtle at work. _

Bastard. Rafael interrupts Liv and Fin’s discussion to ease their concerns—of course, he’ll keep them in the loop, just as much as they will—and sends an equally biting response. _ If you were going to come in here looking like that, I would have been better. _

_ So this is my fault? And a week before my birthday? I’m ashamed of you. _

_ Keep up the attitude and you won’t get your present. _ “I know three judges who will sign your warrant for the country club,” he says to Liv and Fin. “Let me know when you’re ready to get it signed. I’ll join in.”

“Will do,” Liv nods. “Do you need a ride back to Hogan?”

Rafael shakes his head, briefly glancing at Sonny’s raised head. “I’ll be fine. Rita wants to meet for lunch a few blocks away. I’ll let her pick me up.” He leaves the precinct and is barely on the street again by the time the next text arrives.

_ Gifts are only allowed on the 29th of February. _

_ Lucky for you I don’t follow rules well. Clear your weekend and have something grungy ready. _

_ Already done. Are we heading where I think we’re going? _

_ I’ll have to plead the fifth on that. _

_ By doing so, you’re already incriminating yourself. _

_ Objection, argumentative and hearsay. _

_ Objection, argumentative and non-responsive. You should plead this out while you can, Counselor. _

_ After you, Counselor. _

* * *

“Do you still have some of that rope we used a few weeks ago?”

Rafael asks the question when Sonny, dressed in worn jeans and an oversized Mets hoodie, does a double-take as he gets in the car. If they were going to a sex shop to pick out items for a night in, he wasn’t going to take any risks. Maybe the all-black look and leather jacket was a bit too much, for some, but they were the first non-ADA Barba items he saw in his closet. It would have to do.

“You going out to a sock hop later?” Sonny scoffs as he pulls away from the curb and heads to New Jersey. Even in a city of millions, it was always better to be safe.

Rafael huffs and slides his sunglasses to hang on the vee of his shirt. Sonny’s hands tighten against the steering wheel. “Would you rather I go in my finest nightgown or a pair of chaps?”

“First off, I highly doubt that you own a pair of chaps. Second, when you said ‘grungy,’ I didn’t think you were gonna wear _ that _.”

“It’s already on my body, and I’m not changing, so you’ll have to deal with it.” God, was it really that bad? Sure, he could have gone without the leather jacket, but it accented the whole look. Without it, he was just some man in a black v-neck and dark jeans. It was like asking him to put on a suit without a pocket square, or without coordinating his tie to his socks and underwear.

“I’m not saying it’s bad.” Sonny takes the stop at the traffic light to finally look over at him, and the arousal is screaming, a roar of blue flames itching for a taste of his skin. His lips flash up in a coy smirk and drop just as quickly. “Is this what it felt like to see me the other day? Because now I’m the one who should have had a warning.”

Rafael clears his throat to hide how much the words curl around his throat and squeeze the breath out of him. Maybe the outfit was a bad idea—he wants to forgo all his plans and just take Sonny there, throw the seat back and let those toned thighs ravish him, let his legs stretch around his waist and hug him, hold him down, milk him of every sound from his lips and every drop of cum from his cock. Anything to hold Sonny’s legs and honor them, caress his calves and squeeze his thighs, knead his ass and worship the skin like he deserves to be worshipped.

Rafael quickly crosses his legs to hide and calm the growing bulge in his jeans. So much for waiting until later.

“So,” he says, half of it a groggy cough and the other a desperate plea to change the subject, “the rope?”

“Yeah, uh, the rope,” Sonny nods, just as eager to talk about something else. “Yep. Still got some.”

“Good. If you don’t mind, I’d like to use it on your legs.”

Sonny swallows, idly licks his lips, shifts in his seat. “Just my legs?”

“Mhm. With your permission.”

“What, in like a frog tie?”

“Fuck.” Rafael tries to cover the word up with a hand flat over his mouth, but judging from the soft chuckle beside him, it doesn’t work. He can only imagine Sonny’s long legs, bound at the ankles and thighs, folded in a way that allows him to both keep his legs spread and keep the long limbs within reach. He could just slurp his dick and lick his hole and bite his ass for as long as Sonny had him there. “Yes. Exactly like a frog tie.”

Sonny just nods, keeping his eyes forward and his breath steady. He waits until they comb through the southern tip of Manhattan and are a few blocks away from the Holland Tunnel before he speaks again, voice clear and even. “I’d like that.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Rafael hums and leans back. “Alright. Good. Um…”

“That’s not it, though,” Sonny steals a quick glance at him, “is it?”

Rafael smirks. “Fordham taught you more than the law, I see. Or is that the work of your natural detective skills?”

Sonny laughs quietly, a small flush of red brushing over his cheeks. How pretty. “Well, I mean, we’re going to a sex shop, even though we already have rope. So why else would we be heading out to Jersey on a Saturday?”

“Mm. Fair point. There aren’t a lot of reasons to go there, huh?”

A brief pause, then, “You get to Philly.”

Rafael snorts. It’s an ugly sound, definitely an accident, but Sonny smiles at it. If that expression wasn’t so damn precious, he’d succumb to the embarrassment churning in his gut. “There is Philly. Possibly the only good thing to come from a trip through Jersey.”

“I mean, it has some history.”

“What history?”

“Alexander Hamilton died there, right? Didn’t his duel take place at Weehawken?”

“That can’t be the only thing. Wasn’t there a battle or something during the 1700s?”

“Probably. If it’s white history, it probably has its own holiday and day of remembrance.”

Rafael thinks of refuting that, but it doesn’t sound too far from reality. They probably get a day off of school and work for it too. “That’s fair.”

Their conversation drifts into the same easy tones as they enter the Holland Tunnel to bring them to New Jersey. They poke fun at the state, discuss their separate workdays, encourage one another when they highlight lows or particularly rough times. Sonny reveals, a bit discreetly and in not so many words, that the nightmare he had is not as intense to remember when he’s working the case. He’s okay, he’s sleeping alright, and the work he had put in to separate reality from a dream was praised by his therapist. Rafael adds, also in his own way, just how proud he is of him, and they both have to stare out the window at the orange lights aligning the tunnel walls to avoid discussing it any further.

New Jersey is smelled before it’s seen, and Rafael recoils when they finally emerge from the Tunnel and a stench of garbage seeps into the car. Going through the necessary tolls and getting onto the road suggested by the GPS, it takes a few minutes of confused driving and verbal jabs at each other before they pass into Newark and pull into a parking lot off the interstate. The sex shop is lodged in a shopping center between a laundromat and a pizzeria. Somehow, it feels fitting. 

Sonny parks the car and turns to Rafael, the car’s ignition dying and the keys jingling in his hand. He had been here twice before, both for Rafael, and the thought is absolutely mind-numbing that something so raunchy could have reasons so genuine at its core.

“Before we head in,” Sonny says, slightly turned towards him, “I just wanna see if I can ask what you’re getting for me.”

Rafael smirks and leans in close to him, eyes half-lidded and trained on the pink lips before him. He could kiss them all day, nip at them, suck on them and lather them in spit, just occupy himself with that mouth. If they didn’t have plans already, he probably would. This man will be the death of him for sure. “Perhaps,” he hums, inches from those soft lips. Sonny leans forward as if to meet him halfway but Rafael stops him from going any further. “Another time.”

He gets out of the car to a quiet curse of his name and slides his sunglasses back on with a smirk. The leather and all-black was a good choice: it made him look all the more dramatic, especially if it got Sonny to pout like that.

The sex shop is rather organized, one half dedicated to clothes and reading material and the other specified for toys and media. From what Rafael can see, they have a fairly diverse selection of items, things that are clearly meant for beginners and items that recommend extensive experience just with one glance. He keeps an eye on the lingerie for now—he can worry about that later—and takes Sonny’s hand so he can escort him through the many vibrators and gags. The latter, once again, is a tempting concept, considering there’s nothing that can stop him from running his mouth, but there are more important things to focus on. Like the way Sonny’s eyes linger over the toys with a desperate thirst he remembers seeing when they recently played with them.

Rafael squeezes his hand when he stops in front of an array of vibrators, these ones mostly remote-controlled or long wands that plug into the wall. Sonny eyes them with the same desperation as before, the urge to devour him, whether he’s taking his cock in the ass or having it down his throat, burning in his eyes. “I don’t need to tell you what these do,” Rafael says, idly rubbing his thumb along the top of his hand. Sonny squeezes back, eyeing their folded fingers with soft admiration. “But I want you to pick one out that you like. One I can use, specifically, on you.”

A shiver skates over Sonny’s back; he runs his unoccupied hand through his hair and groans. If the glint of excitement in his eyes is anything to go by, he’s enjoying this. As long as there’s a possibility of pleasing him, Rafael notes, Sonny will commit to just about anything. He can make him happy, whether it be vanilla or downright filthy, just by looking at him, just by touching him, just by being with him.

“Please note, though,” Rafael adds with a tap to his shoulder, “that it’s not the only thing I’ll be using. So you don’t have to go all-in on the first one you see.”

Sonny laughs under his breath, picking up a vibrator with a tapered end from a hook on the wall. The separation of their hands makes his palm feel cold and empty. “Wow. This almost feels surreal.”

Rafael, head tilting to the side, gathers Sonny’s attention with a hand on his shoulder. “Why do you say that?”

Sonny shrugs and puts the vibrator back. “I dunno. I mean, we aren’t really doing this in our spare time. We went out of our way to come here—and that’s not a complaint, for the record,” he adds with raised hands. “I mention it because I think it’s…neat.” Sonny smiles at the description; Rafael’s heart gets a little more tender at the sight. How someone can be so effortlessly happy is beyond him. He can only hope nothing ever happens to that sight.

“It is neat,” Rafael returns the smile, stifling a laugh behind a hand when Sonny beams at him, “isn’t it?”

A bit of trepidation crosses his face, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. “We can almost call it a date.”

Rafael’s eyebrows shoot up at the suggestion; it was the last thing he was expecting, but he wasn’t necessarily opposed to it. A sex shop might not have been the ideal place for a date, but when had they been an ideal couple? Rafael could list all the ways they toyed with expectations set against them. Instead, he grabs his hand in his again and locks their fingers together. “I like this being a date. It makes sex later more appropriate.”

Sonny chuckles and steps into his space. “Does this mean we can kiss?”

Shit. His breath is hot between them, steaming and curling over his skin. “I would hope so.”

“Oh, good.” Sonny leans in to connect their lips, chaste and quick, but he leans down again the second they separate to steal five more. Rafael can’t help but laugh into it, wrapping his arm around his waist and holding him tight. The kisses jump down his neck and end when Sonny nuzzles his nose against his jaw and smiles against his skin. “I like kissing you.”

“I couldn’t tell,” Rafael teases. He backs up so they can look at the wall of toys but still stay connected, and a bout of amusement bubbles in his chest. “Now pick out a toy before I end up mounting you here and now.”

Sonny mumbles something under his breath—that is definitely a complaint of Rafael not doing it already—but he does as he’s told. His eyes wander over each toy, lingering over the ones with round ends, especially the wands. Another image pops up in his head, Sonny bucking up from the rounded end pressed firmly against his balls, nestled right at the base of his cock but always moving back right at the last second. All of it a tease, all of it a show, long legs bound and keeping him open and exposed to Rafael’s eyes.

God. He really cannot control himself. He’s almost tempted to throw him over the backseat of the car when they get back to it.

Rafael snaps out of his daze when Sonny finally decides on one. It’s white with purple accents, the wand long and the round edge smooth but ridged. It plugs into the wall, but there should be an extension cord somewhere in that apartment. The switch has five settings; Rafael can imagine his bed partner at all five. “I like this one,” Sonny confirms with a short nod.

Rafael clears his throat, eyeing the toy for himself. “Looks good to me.” He gets enough of a look to make sure it’s what Sonny wants before his thirst for spread legs and trembling cries drown it out. He wraps his arms tighter around the taller man’s waist and squeezes at the warm contact. “Any other toys you were looking at?”

It takes a second, but Sonny blinks rapidly and shakes his head. Probably couldn’t think with whatever noise he had. “No, uh, this should be good enough. And the rope, of course.”

“Of course. I just have one more item, and we can get out of here and try it all out.” With a parting squeeze to his ass, Rafael guides him—finally—to the clothing on the other side of the store. Most of it is leather, but he keeps the two of them in front of the selection of lingerie. Ever since Sonny sent him those pictures of him trying on the lingerie, he’s had nothing but that image seared into his mind. When he shut his eyes at night, it popped up with a friendly jerk of his cock. When he caught a glimpse of Sonny’s ass in tight pants that should be outlawed, he felt the tingle of lace and silk slide over his fingers. He’s absolutely parched from it and he wants more.

Sonny smiles at him when he spots the underwear and looks at him cheekily. “I knew it was a good idea to buy us a pair.”

“It was an incredibly good idea. I still think about you in maroon,” Rafael slides a hand up his side to better keep him against his front, and Sonny’s throat bobs with an audible swallow, “riding me in your car, throwing your ass onto my thighs and making me feel the lace through my clothes.”

“Raf,” he huffs, eyes slowly sliding shut, “please, you gotta stop saying this shit in public.”

“Only when you stop showing your ass off.” Rafael keeps his palm flat against his back, but when Sonny reaches around and starts to shift him down, he relishes in the contact with a hiss and a sly wink. “Are you trying to convince me of something, Counselor?”

Sonny chuckles and leans forward. “Depends, Counselor. Are you open to my proposal?”

God, he wants to bite his lip. Just a quick nibble, maybe a sly suckle. He can’t hold off his thirst for much longer. “I can be.”

Sonny, gaze lingering over the racks of outfits and wall of lingerie, slides back and points to a sky blue slip and a matching garter belt. “If we both pick out something for me to wear, then we can get out of here quicker. And you can go back to rubbing your hands all over me.”

The idea is immediately appealing—anything to get them back to Sonny’s—but Rafael plays a bit longer. He draws out his sigh and drapes an arm over Sonny’s shoulder. “Sounds a little daunting to me. I can pick out anything for you?”

“Anything.” Sonny winks and leans forward to whisper, “As long as I can wear it while you lick my ass clean.”

Rafael nearly comes. Dear God, he’s glad he accepted his attraction to the man a few weeks ago—okay, eleven months ago—and not in that moment. Otherwise, he’d be made a fool of right in the middle of the sex shop. Rafael covers up his bout of arousal with a half-hearted shrug and a tight squeeze to Sonny’s shoulder. “Well. If you’re so sure, then I can’t see any reason why I wouldn’t do that.”

Sonny grins and—damn this man, he either wants to kill him or he simply has no self-control for his affection for the other man—pecks his cheek. “Good. Let’s get started.”

Rafael pokes his arm as he turns away and faces the displays of unisex panties. “Is this a competition now? You’re awfully eager to start.”

“Maybe it is.” Sonny looks up from his determined digging through a rack of lingerie to wink at him. “Maybe I just wanna dress up and see your reaction.”

Well. That was just filthy of him, but lucky for Rafael, he’s always ready for a bit of healthy competition. He tucks the vibrator under his arm and pages through the racks. All of them would look nice—Sonny’s ass doesn’t need the encouragement since every color and fabric that could frame those cheeks would look perfect doing so—but there needs to be something striking. Something that makes Rafael keen at the back of his throat and thirst for this man (more than he already is, of course).

Since Sonny is looking at the unisex options, Rafael peeks through the lines of underwear that will properly accommodate his dick. He likes the ones that are made to replicate boxers but look more like garter belts. And there are a few that are all lace and string, and as much as he thinks Sonny would look amazing, the tangle of fabric makes him put it back. This should be the best he can find for Sonny. Something he would want to wear again, maybe slip it on before work in preparation for a night together, slide a hand over his thighs so he can feel the material through his slacks. Maybe think of Rafael as he put it on. That would be more wishful thinking than an actual possibility, but at least it warms his chest and spins his stomach.

Rafael comes across a nice assortment, all from the same brand of lacy and sheer underwear, in various colors and designs. One of them is a bright crimson, all sheer, with little paisley swirls in the design. Another, a deep green shade, has slits on the thighs that go up to the hem, but they don’t have his size. And then, Rafael discovers a black piece, made to look like boxers, with a lace design around the waist and down the thighs in a thick strip. He knows this is the one he wants because the pale skin of his thighs is perfectly visible and available to ogle, and Rafael realizes that’s all he can hope for. Just muscled thighs held in place by black lace.

He turns and looks up just in time to find Sonny has also made a decision, a simple mauve piece that covers the front and is lacy for the rest. Rafael has to take a deep breath before he speaks. The image that pops up in his head dries his throat in a few seconds. He clears his throat twice to speak without a creak. “Found something?”

“I think so,” Sonny says and holds up the underwear, twirling it by the hanger. “I might have to try them on first, y’know, just to see if it fits?”

“Oh, I think it does.” He reaches forward to touch it but Sonny pulls it out of reach with a smirk. “What, can I only look and not touch?”

“Maybe.” Sonny reaches for the black underwear Rafael had chosen. “I wanna save it for later. Don’t want you coming in the store before we even start.”

Rafael scoffs but hands over the black lingerie regardless. “Sure, I’m the one who has to be careful. You’re the tease here.”

Sonny clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “So sassy. What’s got you riled up?”

“You tell me.” He pinches Sonny’s ass when he turns to head for the dressing rooms. Rafael revels in the quiet squawk and sly smile that the taller man shoots back. His words are nothing but talks and taunts: they’re both to blame for such teasing and both equally as thirsty to bring them closer to the bedroom.

Rafael waits outside of the dressing room while Sonny goes into the stall. The hoodie and jeans tossed over the door are more of a tease that he’s dressing down rather than an actual necessity to put his things somewhere. It does the job, though, since Rafael has to pinch his side and bite his tongue to stop himself from verbally reacting. He thinks about going to buy the vibrator and get it out of the way, maybe purchase something else, but he cancels the thought when Sonny speaks up.

“How did you know I look good in dark colors?” He taunts.

Rafael smirks and leans against the wall opposite the stall. “There’s no sexy way to say it, but I think it’s because you’re pale as hell.”

Sonny pokes his head out to stick his tongue out at him. “Do you wanna see this or not?”

“Which one did you try on?”

“The black one.”

Rafael gives a mock sigh, rolling his eyes and tilting his head up to think about it. “I suppose I can, to apologize for being so cruel to you.”

Sonny laughs and steps out of the stall. The boxer shape hugs his thighs, much better to see than to imagine, and the black of the lace is bold against his skin. It covers more of his dick than the other one might, but Rafael knows the curve of his cock and the press of his bulge from one glance. The lace is more of a tease than he thought—a good portion of Sonny’s thighs are visible, but the lingerie covers up some of him so that the only look he can get is one through the dark fabric. Much like his vests and suits, the briefs shape his abdomen nicely, mold his hips to the line of his shoulders, sculpt the outline of his dick against the black fabric.

Sonny is spinning in front of the wall-length mirror at the end of the corridor and humming as he pokes his body. “I dunno, I can’t tell if it works for me or not.” He plucks the hem of the lingerie and lets it snap on his skin. Rafael covers his mouth to resist saying something completely different. His mind is on his thighs and the frame of black on the smooth expanse of ivory, imagining the dark spot that could bleed through if he just rubbed him, worshipping his legs with slow touches. Too lazy to take it off, just rut through underwear and drag breathy moans and desperate cries with every shove against his crotch.

Rafael snaps out of it when Sonny steps into his line of sight, deliberately bowing his head to look him in the eyes. “You hear that?”

He shakes his head, rubbing his cheek almost shyly. If he could pretend those eyes weren’t trying to get a rise out of him, it never happened in the first place. “Uh, yeah. Yes.”

Sonny snorts softly—he doesn’t believe him, no surprise—and walks back into the changing room. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for now.”

Rafael laughs under his breath. “I appreciate that. I promise, it’s not you, it’s me.”

“Sure it is.” He opens the door and wordlessly holds the black lingerie out; Rafael takes it and wraps it around the vibrator. “That’s for later.”

“Ooh. How dramatic. Will there be a show?”

“See, I thought of it, but I don’t know if my date will like it.”

“Trust me, I think he will.”

Sonny peeks out again—damn the man, looking equal parts coy and sly. “How do you know? You in contact with him?”

Rafael leans in, hovering just over his lips, and smirks. “I have it on good authority he would love nothing more than to watch you move in nothing but that damned slip of clothing and drive him wild.”

The door closes quickly after that. Rafael laughs as Sonny curses and fumbles behind the door. There was so much to admire with their relationship, not just how they’ve grown as people but the level of intimacy and romance that has blossomed beyond what he could ever imagine. They support each other, emotionally and professionally; they look out for each other; they care and respect and, dare he say, love his whole self and everything he brings to the table. Rafael cannot think of another person contributing so much to their dual relationship as Sonny Carisi, for all his genuine faults and finest moments.

When Sonny opens the door again, it’s with a bright grin and an admiring hand ghosting down his chest. The deep magenta is bright against the tone of his body, a bit tighter in the front but stretching around his waist beautifully. He holds his arms out and cocks his hip, and Rafael wants to suck his pelvis until it matches the color of the lingerie.

“How’s this?” Sonny asks, more genuine than teasing.

“It looks nice,” Rafael says with a smile. “Probably better than the other.”

“You think so?” He turns a bit so that he can watch the lacy rim hug his side. “I was scared it’d be tight, but it’s actually comfortable.”

“Well, I don’t think it was made for a cock like yo—”

The air vanishes from his throat, squeezed out of his lungs, and he chokes on the breath that he had tried to pull in. Sonny turns to face the mirror, showing his ass off, and there is no greater sight than this. The magenta frames both cheeks and cups around them like a jockstrap. His ass is bared, thanks to the lingerie piece, for anyone who wants to see—and Rafael is the one who gets to drink it all in. There were times where the outline of his ass could break his pants if he so much as sneezed. To think that ass, as round and firm as it is, could be so powerful drains his throat and dick simultaneously.

There are a thousand and one things Rafael can do to him when he wears this, and every single scenario runs through him. He doesn’t even try to hide the arousal in his eyes or the rumbling groan. Sonny catches him leering from the mirror, and a slow smirk rises on his lips; the bastard knew exactly what he was doing. He knew his ass would look impeccable in that underwear, the way it would hug his ass desperately. Rafael reaches out hesitantly, but his bravery kicks in when Sonny grabs hold of his wrist and he wraps his arms around that lean waist. The lingerie feels nice under his skin. The silky front—reserved just for his dick—is gentle and smooth. The lace pricks his fingers and taunts the peeps of skin that are only covered by the sheer material.

Rafael leans forward, nuzzling his shoulder, and bites lightly into him. Sonny lets out a soft groan and throws his head back. Just the slightest touch and they’re one step closer to ruining his new underwear before it’s his.

“Okay,” Sonny heaves, eyes sliding shut, “I was wrong. The leather was a good choice for you.”

“If we aren’t fucking within the hour,” Rafael murmurs in his ear, “I’m returning these toys before they’re even bought.”

It’s only pure luck that they remember to pay for both sets of lingerie and the vibrator. They’re even luckier to make it to the car without coming and to return to Manhattan without breaking any speed laws.

* * *

They make it into the bedroom. Rafael doesn’t expect them to get past the car, or the hallway, or the apartment, but they do. It almost feels like there are no words to share, even though Sonny goads him into laying him on the leather jacket, even though Rafael whispers filthy praises in his ear while he pounds into Sonny’s ass as deep as he can, even though they frantically pull at each other, yell and writhe and squeeze each other until there is nothing left.

Sonny keeps his legs raised and wrapped around Rafael’s waist, making sure he isn’t going anywhere and ensuring that Rafael thrusts further inside with each piston shot of his hips. The heat is overwhelming, shrouding Rafael and tugging him deeper; Sonny’s hands are made of lava, running over his skin and lathering his biceps with burning caresses and desperate grips. Each gasp of his mouth is lewd and heavy. Each glance they share wraps around them and anchors them in place. Rafael doubts he’s going to last much longer.

“C’mon,” he whispers in Sonny’s ear, “I wanna see you come.”

“Oh god, oh god,” Sonny whines. His ankles dig harder when he rams and rolls into his prostate. “Oh god. Please, yes, please.”

Rafael grabs his dick—standing tall and glistening, pulsing in his palm—and tugs at it. Sonny cries out with reckless abandon and drops against the bed with a wrangled gasp. “Do you like this? Huh? You want me to keep going?”

“God, please, yes, oh god, yes, please—” Rafael, forming a ring with his fingers, pulls and holds his place at the head and then the base. Sonny reacts beautifully and comes, splattering white on his stomach and Rafael’s hand. He somehow manages to keep eye contact, but he squeezes his eyes shut when Rafael thrusts one last time. The sight alone, mixed with the sensation, sends Rafael tumbling down his own path. This man could ruin him without ever saying a word, and he would have no protests.

They rest on the bed for a moment, Rafael pulling out and sagging against the sheets, Sonny out of breath but smiling dopily at the ceiling. It almost feels like a wave of tension has been released from Rafael’s body. The urge to do something about their mutual sexual attraction is settled, for now, and that’s fine on his part. Rafael, being the older of the two, has more limitations to his energy and libido than Sonny does. But for this evening, for this day so far into the month of February, right on the edge of March, it is exactly what he needs.

“Damn,” Sonny sighs with a laugh. “That felt good.”

“Yeah?” Rafael looks over at him, turning on his side to better admire the curve of his nose and bob of his throat. “Wasn’t too rough?”

“Nah. I like it when you get that way.”

“What way?”

“When you’re fucking me so hard I can’t even speak.” Sonny scoots closer and rests their foreheads together. Rafael presses a soft kiss on his nose. “I just moan and beg.”

“Mm. It’s a good look on you.” He shoots him a playful smirk before Sonny laughs quietly and pulls him in for a kiss. Rafael is convinced this man could kill him with his mouth alone. All the words he shares, accented by sharp sounds and long syllables; all the smiles and pouts and musings he flickers through; all the laughs and whispers and flirts. That mouth knows exactly what it’s doing, and Sonny has no shame in showing it off. There’s no way he doesn’t know the effect it has on him.

Rafael breaks away first and sits up. Sonny looks at him with overflowing amounts of thanks and trust and adoration. If he didn’t have other plans for them, he would spend the rest of the afternoon kissing each breath out of him. “Because you only allow gifts on your actual birthday, you can think of this as a night for us to try something new.”

Sonny’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Okay? I thought we talked about this—”

“Technically,” Rafael raises a hand, “you said no gifts, and you don’t have to see this as a gift.” Sonny shoves his hand away, shaking his head but smiling all the same. “And because it’ll take me a little longer to recover, you won’t have to worry about taking care of me.”

“Raf—”

“You always do. And I really do appreciate that, Sonny.” Rafael surges down to kiss him, just to hold his face and admire the kindness one person could produce. Sonny lets him, melting against him and letting out a long breath through his nose. “Your kindness knows no bounds.” He starts to say more, but Sonny wraps his arms around him and holds him against his chest. Rafael isn’t going to force him away even if he wanted to. “Let me,” he chuckles when Sonny’s lips smack the corner of his mouth in his eagerness to continue tasting him. “Let me treat you. Let me honor you. Let me worship you. For all the times I couldn’t give back, let me do it this one time.”

Sonny grins—the sight is beautiful, all dimples and pure joy. And the nod he receives is just as eager, just as pleased. “Yeah. Do it.”

Rafael holds his face between his hands so he can mold their lips together before he gets off the bed. There is so much about this man that makes his heart tremble and clench, he wants to drink it all in at once and stay in his arms. But the plan he has for their Saturday together will benefit him much more in the long run.

With a few more lingering pecks and a goofy smile to admire when he sits up, Rafael cleans them off, tosses the condom, and heads into the living room. He ignores the wolf whistle that Sonny sends his way and digs through the bag from the sex shop to get the vibrator and magenta jockstrap. “Where do you keep the rope?” He asks.

He turns around to find Sonny—with Rafael’s leather jacket draped over his shoulders—brandishing the bundle of rope in his hand with a sly smirk. If he hadn’t already come, Rafael would tackle him to the ground right there. The leather looks amazing on him, that’s a given, but on the younger man, it’s delectable. The way it hugs his shoulder and contrasts the jet black to the silvery gray of his hair, the subtle curve of the collar that hugs his neck, a pale column that is begging Rafael to dig his teeth in already. What a tease.

Rafael swallows an aroused growl and sidles up to Sonny, swinging his hips and pulling the lean form against his sturdy build. From the back of his throat, Sonny groans and shuts his eyes, chewing on his lower lip. “You look good in leather.”

“I know,” Sonny opens his eyes to wink at him. “I have my own jacket to prove it.”

Shit. The thought alone spins his stomach in dizzying circles. Imagining Sonny in dark leather and standing over him, fucking him in nothing but the jacket, has him biting on the inside of his cheek. “If only we didn’t have other plans.”

“If only.” He holds out the bundle of rope in exchange for the lingerie and steps into the magenta jockstrap. The lace travels up his legs slowly and traces over his skin with light pecks. Sonny shivers at the trail and hooks his thumbs around the sides so he can hike it up. His cock bobs a bit as he tucks it in neatly and lets the lingerie snap against him. He looks just as spectacular in it now as he did in the store; Rafael digs his thumb into his palm to stop himself from pouncing early. “Well?” Sonny juts his hip out and places a cupped hand on his hip. “What d’you think?”

“Fuck.” Rafael surges forward to capture his lips, and Sonny wraps his long arms around him to tug at his hair and rove over his body. The only thing he can see is Sonny’s legs, perfectly framed by magenta shades and lacy fabrics, stretching for miles and wrapping around him. Rafael holds his hips, right above the lingerie, and moves back to whisper onto his lips, “You look delicious.”

Sonny grins and mouths along his jaw. “Thanks.” The word gets caught in his skin, trapped in the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and he shivers. “I thought of you when I was picking out the color.”

“Yeah?” Rafael reaches around with one hand to grab his bare ass. The sudden touch of skin beneath the cup of the jockstrap is a shocking sensation, but a soothing ground to stand on and clear his head. “How so?”

Sonny hums, deep and low, and nuzzles his cheek. The soft gesture is a complete one-eighty from the string of filth that suddenly pours out of him. “You hold my hips down while you fucked me. Eating my ass out. Spreading my legs so you could just take.”

“God.” Rafael moans openly, not minding the embarrassed blush that creeps over his cheeks, and bucks his hips on instinct. “Yes.”

“You always said darker colors fit me nicely. But this is a dark shade of a lighter color.”

He can’t help but chuckle at that; it looks like he taught Sonny more than he had initially thought. “So you’re a tease now, too, huh? You’re not going to listen to the rules? Just pick and choose what to follow?”

“Well,” Sonny muses quietly, looking up at the ceiling in mock thought, “I think we gave up on the rules a few months ago.”

“You’re a shit.” Rafael conquers his mouth—holding his face, licking inside, dragging saliva around Sonny’s lips and mouth while he takes what he wants and drags wet, desperate grunts from him. The rope and vibrator still in his hands remind him that he has more to do, more to carry on, but he indulges in his urges for a while longer. Sonny has no objections to it; he can tell from the pleading pets at his chest and back, as well as the slight juts of his hips each time their tongues collide.

Sonny breaks the sloppy kiss first, panting and restless already. Still a beautiful sight. “If you don’t get started soon, I’m gonna be the one takin’ a break.”

“Oh, poor baby.” Rafael adds one last teasing peck to his jaw before he nods to the bedroom. The swivel of Sonny’s hips finally allows him a perfect view of those perky cheeks, hugged by magenta and emphasized with two thin straps that cup the underside of his ass. It’s a good thing they both know how weak Rafael is to such a flawless ass, particularly since it’s Sonny’s. It makes the choked whine and thirsty ogling all the more acceptable; Rafael doesn’t realize he made the sound, and Sonny doesn’t bring it up.

“I might have left out one detail about why I got this piece.” Sonny looks over his shoulder with a mischievous grin when they return to the bedroom. “You have easy access to my ass.”

Rafael tosses both the vibrator and the rope on the bed so he can grab him by the straps of his lingerie and tug his ass against his dick. Sonny lets out a surprised yelp at the motion, nearly falling over onto the bed, but he laughs and rubs back teasingly. When he tilts down, Rafael can see that his entrance is twitching from his absence, still prepped and ready for another round, but he disregards that for now, putting it to the side in his mind. He’ll get to that later.

“Get on your back, please,” Rafael requests. Sonny shrugs off the jacket, letting it fall gently to the side, and takes a seat on the bed. He scoots up until his head hits the pillows and his entire body is spread on the sheets. There is a definite damp spot forming on his crotch from where his dick keeps on pressing against the fabric. It’s only been a few minutes and he’s already prepared for another round. Rafael kneels on the bed and crawls up Sonny’s body, hovering over him until he reaches his face. He kisses his lips, one last time, before he reveals his plan. “You treat me so well, Sonny. There are times where I look at you and wonder what I did to earn such unadulterated kindness, such a sweet heart. It feels like I’m being worshipped for every inch of my body and soul.”

“You deserve it, Rafael,” Sonny whispers. “You deserve to be worshipped like a king. You deserve good things.”

How Sonny manages to not roll them over and just make out with him, he won’t know. He just smiles and reaches up to hold his cheek and admire the man before him. “So do you. You deserve it…so much, Sonny. And I want to be the one to give it to you.” He moves back to rest on his haunches; he catches the disappointed whine and silent grab for him. “Let me worship you. All you have to do is lie back and enjoy it. You don’t have to worry about me.” He smiles, genuinely and warmly, and he swears he can hear Sonny’s heart thumping out of his chest. “I’m right where I want to be.”

That must have been the final straw, because Sonny reaches for him and crashes into him. Their teeth scrape together and it takes a brief second for them to tilt their heads accordingly and slot their lips together. Sonny holds his face, then his biceps, then his hips, just pulling and tugging him close and rutting up into him. Rafael chuckles into the kiss and shifts down to lather his throat with open-mouth pecks and affectionate nips.

“How many times can you come tonight?” He asks into his skin.

“Shit, Rafael,” Sonny tosses his head back and groans. “I dunno.”

“Mm. Should we count your first time from before or start over?”

Sonny shuts his eyes and breathes quietly. The dip of his chest as he inhales and releases air from his lungs is steady and even. “Let’s count it. You did me so good, god, why wouldn’t I count it?”

Rafael places a small kiss on his navel, right above the jockstrap, affectionate and tender. “Don’t worry, I want to count it too. You felt so good, so nice and tight. I just slid right in.” He closes his teeth around a small patch of skin and suckles on it. Sonny bucks at the motion and cries out, arms gripping the pillow under his head and legs rising up. They’ve barely started and already he wants the image of Sonny’s legs framing him to stay seared in his mind. Rafael moves back, kissing the reddening love bite, and grins up at him. “I love burying my dick in your ass. You always suck me in a little further.”

Sonny whines, desperate pleas formed in the wiggle on the bed and a cant of his hips. “C’mon. Please, give it to me.”

Rafael sits up and reaches for the bundle of rope. He measures out a few strands and keeps eye contact with his bed partner. “Do you still want me to tie up your legs?”

“Yes,” Sonny replies instantaneously, without hesitation, but with complete trust. “Yes, please. Tie them up however you want.” He drops them back to the bed so he can stretch them out. Rafael can’t help the swell of fondness in his heart, and he rubs his side slowly.

“Get used to having them out for now. They’re gonna be tied up for a bit.”

Sonny nods and wiggles his toes while Rafael finishes up dividing the strands. He had seen a pair of scissors on the dresser behind them, so if there was an emergency, he could free him quickly. Even then, he only wants to make him aware of the ropes, show him how comforting it can be to be bound by the threads. Just as he had felt when he was tied to the chair that is back in its place at the desk. “I’m going to start at your ankle, and then wrap it around your thigh and cinch it off. How’s that sound?”

“Yeah. Fuck me, Raf, you’re gonna kill me.”

Rafael laughs under his breath and runs a hand through his hair. “That’s not the point.” He stops himself from letting a pet name slip out—just a small one, at the very last second, his efforts barely recognizable. He would hate to ruin their evening for taking their relationship into territory they have yet to discuss. “Have you ever had your legs tied like this?”

“Not that I can remember, no,” he shakes his head, before adding, “but I did have my wrists tied at my ankles.” Rafael cocks a brow at that, and Sony rolls his eyes. “It was my first college boyfriend. We liked trying new things.”

“I won’t tell a soul.” Rafael brings the rope around his left ankle and ties it off. He pulls on it for a reaction, but Sonny is just watching him, expression overflowing with admiration and something bigger than that glimmering in his eyes. Rafael has to clear his throat to speak. “Does that feel alright?”

Sonny smiles and flexes his leg out for a brief second. “Feels amazing.” His gaze wanders down to his hands and zeroes in on his fingers as he wraps the rest of the rope around his thigh. The scream of pale skin against the tawny strands of rope, around those impossibly lanky legs, makes his skin prickle with goosebumps. It’s an even better sight in person, especially when he groans and tests how far his ankle can go once Rafael ties off the rope wrapped around his thigh. “Looks like I’m stuck here for a bit.”

“Is it uncomfortable?”

“Nah.” He rests his bent leg up on his foot, his knee facing up and effectively spreading his legs. There is a definite tent in the jockstrap now, a protrusion that had not been there before, and the dark spot has grown more noticeable. Rafael wonders if it’s more of a pain to have it on or to have his attention focused anywhere but that long dick encased in magenta.

He breaks out of his train of thought—his distraction, really—and starts working on his other ankle. His mouth starts working before he even realizes what he’s saying. “Your legs are so goddamn long. Do you know why I dropped my pretzels this week?”

Sonny laughs, his breaths a bit more spaced out and resembling staccato notes. “I can take a guess.”

“It’s because you strolled into the squad room like your name was on the building. And,” he ties the rope at his ankle, leaving some more for his thigh, but takes his time admiring the skin, running over it and worshipping every muscle and inch of tissue underneath, “you weren’t letting anyone stop you.”

Sonny reaches for him, and Rafael grabs his hand, pecking each finger with ginger touches. “You would have.”

“So sappy.” Rafael kisses the center of his abdomen and traces over the spot with the pads of his fingers. “Are you sure I didn’t fuck the sense right out of you?”

“Hey,” Sonny pinches his arm, forcing him to look up into burning waves of blue, “you better not be knocking me down for saying that.”

“Never.” He finishes tying the rope, wrapping a few rounds around his right thigh and tying it off neatly. Sonny adjusts his right leg so that it’s level with the left, and it’s startling how much Rafael wants to devour him just for looking like this. Just drink every cry and eat out every moan. Those legs are still so beautiful, neatly folded and held in place, a bit of a tremble running through them. The fact that he gets to be the only one to see it, accented with a teasing slip of magenta, he almost can’t bear it “I just think you could be a bit more eloquent with your words.”

Sonny’s brows furrow and he lands another pinch on the older man’s arm. “That’s still offensive.”

“And what will you do about it?” Rafael plops down between his open legs and admires him: mussed hair already clinging to his forehead, pink lips parted to accept gentle pants, eyes shimmering like the clear waters of the Mediterranean, the magenta lingerie showing off the shape of his dick and hugging what little skin it can, all for show now that his ankles have adhered to his thighs and he is forced to spread his legs. “Last I checked,” he runs a sly finger down his calf, starting at his knee and sending shivers through the detective, “you were a bit busy with something.”

When he reaches his ankle, stopping at the rounds of rope wrapped around it, Sonny bucks forward as much as he can and groans. His knees knock together in the motion, and he licks his lips with a flick of his tongue. Rafael instantly gets an idea and gently pries his legs apart. Now that Sonny’s legs are folded together, there’s little resistance to stop him from spreading him wide.

“How’s it feel?” Laying himself between the open legs, hovering over his clothed cock, Rafael nips a quick bite at his left pec. Sonny, whining, grapples at the bedsheets beneath him for leverage. “You can’t move your legs at all, can you? No matter how much you want to, you just have to take it.”

Rafael makes a show of running his tongue over the center of Sonny’s chest, and a broken “fuck” is wrangled from his throat. He smiles at the heaves, the heavy rises and steep falls that tremble under him. He takes his tongue up to Sonny’s neck, close enough to kiss him if he propped himself up or nudged himself a bit closer, but he dips away. Sonny growls in frustration and squeezes at the bed for some sort of purchase.

“I’ve barely even started,” Rafael whispers into him, “and you’re already wrecked.”

Sonny swallows roughly and looks at him over the length of his body. “Just goes to show what kinda effect you have on me.”

He smirks. “As if I didn’t already know.”

“As if you needed a reminder.”

Rafael gives a short hum in response and inches down his body, kissing a spot there, sucking a mark there. He wants Sonny to feel him everywhere, to have nothing that hasn’t been touched by his teeth or lips or hands. He wants to show him what it feels like to look at a man who would bring him the moon, who would shift the continents just for him, who could love him with his entire being, past the ugly angles and the faults. It’s what Rafael feels when Sonny so much as looks at him, or smiles, or wraps his arms around him while he sleeps, or kisses him in thanks and appreciation and just because he can. It’s starting to sound more and more like Rafael has strong romantic feelings for him.

Maybe because he does.

Rafael nibbles at his navel and presses his lips against his pelvis, hands pushing Sonny’s legs aside. As if he needed to do so in the first place—the lanky limbs already go slack against the bed, toes curled at the pressure aligning his body, restrained from doing anything else. When Rafael sucks hard at a spot just above the lingerie, Sonny keens and wraps his fingers through brown strands of hair. Rafael hums at the contact and prods the mark with the tip of his tongue. When he clamps his teeth down lightly, he is rewarded with a jolt and another wet cry.

“Raf, please,” Sonny begs, voice dripping and soaked with want. “I love it when you mark me up, but if you don’t suck my dick, I’m gonna come.”

Rafael chuckles and moves away to admire the mild hickey. It looks good for a start, more red than purple, but it sticks out from the flush of crimson creeping over his skin. “Well, we can't have that, can we?” He sighs. His hands tug the magenta slip down enough just to free his cock, which springs up immediately, glistening from the beads of cum sliding down it. Sonny lets loose a thankful moan and shuts his eyes.

“No,” he pants, “we can’t. But,” his hips hop off the bed for a split second and his dick bobs against his stomach, “I think you can.”

“Oh?” He grabs the base of his erection and adds a bit of pressure to the grip. He has a plan for his distribution of pleasure, and he wants Sonny to experience all of it as much as possible. “Can I? Do I have that power?”

“I would say _ so _!” Sonny hollers our the last word of that sentence and tosses his head back when Rafael rotates his hand and drags it up to the head. His legs writhe for a moment and struggle against the ropes; his calves twitch and his thighs quiver, closer to the center of his arousal. It gives Rafael an idea, and the lawyer slides down on his stomach a bit more, laid out on the bed and keeping his mouth above Sonny’s dick.

“Can you frame my head while I suck your dick? And try not to close your eyes.” Rafael adds a sly wink to the end of that statement. “I want you to watch me.”

Rafael inserts the head of Sonny’s dick into his mouth, and an animal-like growl rips from Sonny’s chest. “Can I…” He asks the question with a tap to his hair and a squeezing motion. Rafael nods—it’s like a dam has been released because Sonny clutches his hair so tightly, a few strands lock between his fingers and clench. The dull pain can be ignored for now—there’s a cock to suck in front of him and he can’t keep putting it off. 

Sonny is a connoisseur at blow jobs, without contest, Rafael knows how to use his mouth just as well. With one last quick gulp of air, Rafael eases the large cock into his mouth with each slide down the shaft. Sonny’s dick twitches on his tongue and leaks onto him, the bitter taste outlining his mouth. The precum dribbles out in pieces, each new droplet bringing a plea of encouragement to continue onward. As if he needed anymore.

Rafael braces himself against bound thighs and starts sucking, bobbing his head slowly and teasing out a ripple of moans from the body above him. Because his legs are tied, Sonny can only jut his hip in the air; he can’t thrust up desperately for attention or brace his feet in the bed so he can roll upward. He can only take what Rafael gives him and melt into it; he does exactly that, sighing at each rise up and groaning every time his lips inch closer to the tawny pubic hair at the end of his dick.

When Sonny’s voice reaches a breathless height, airy and high in pitch, Rafael relaxes his throat and dives forward. He engulfs the dick and holds it in place, letting it pulse and thrash against him with each throb that wracks Sonny’s body. Rafael steals a glance upward, slurping and suckling around him, and the waves that break through the pale body are beautiful. His hand squeezes a fistful of hair and tugs at it in time with the wet sounds Rafael covers him with. It brings his mouth further down, sends his dick a bit further down his throat, and pulls out lewd noises that ring in his ears.

“Fuck,” Sonny gasps, his free hand floating over his cheek and the protrusion of his head, “oh my god, fuck.”

Rafael hums, deep and low, on purpose to get a reaction from him. And the result is marvelous: Sonny scrunches his nose and opens his mouth in a silent cry, both hands falling to the side of his face. All that leaves his mouth is the wheezing tremble of his voice. Rafael taps his thighs as he pulls back for a long gulp of air. He can already feel the drizzle of saliva and cum around his mouth start to trail down his chin, and he can’t help but smile at the sensation.

Sonny breathes heavily, his hands floating up to his hair and weaving through the strands. He shuts his eyes when Rafael kisses the head of his dick, then his navel, then the center of his abdomen. “Christ, Raf, that…” He chuckles and opens his eyes, arms flopping to his side. “You’re gonna drive me crazy.”

Rafael nuzzles his chest and bites a bit firmer into his right pec. “I like feeling your dick in my throat.”

“God. How are you not hard from this?”

“My attention is a bit more focused on you.” He sucks in around the faint bite mark on his chest, just a brief suction of his lips to tease him. Sonny shivers and rolls his ankles. “How are your legs? Any pain?”

Sonny shakes his head. “No. Just want your mouth again.”

Rafael laughs quietly and kisses the mark he made. “You’ll get it.” His hands skate down his calves and brace themselves against his ankles and thighs. “If I hadn’t folded up your legs, would you have wrapped them around me until I sucked you dry?”

A curse slips past his lips, but a proper reply jumps from his mouth when Rafael drags a tongue up his shaft. “Yes! Yeah! I would have, Raf, shit—”

“There we go.” When he arrives at the head of his cock again, Rafael sucks him down. One hand cups his balls and applies gentle squeezes while he runs his other hand up his body, palm scraping over his skin and digging his nails into his side. Sonny’s cry breaks out as wet and pleading. His legs rise on either side of Rafael to trap him between his knees, and it takes a great amount of restraint to stop himself from reacting with a deep gulp. He settles for swallowing around the head and wrapping his tongue about whatever sits in his mouth. Sonny holds onto his hair so tightly, he has to shut his eyes and moan into the motion.

“Please,” Sonny whines, “Rafael, please, just—” Rafael caves his cheeks and drags his mouth upward. Sonny practically screams. “Yeah! Y-yeah, again!” He drops back to his base, just enough to gather the taste at the back of his throat, and raises off his dick. The most encouragement he can gather is Sonny’s pulls around his head that make his head bob over his dick. “Oh god. Oh, god, Raf—” He plunges down again, and Sonny’s legs—as much as they can, knees knocking over him—squeeze around him as he comes. Rafael drinks in each half-thrust that knocks into his cheek, each drip of cum that he slurps down, and pulls off with a satisfied hum. He rubs his thighs to comfort his climax-ridden form and watches his heavy breaths relax into even sighs.

“Beautiful.” Rafael raises his hand to kiss it, and Sonny smiles, goofy and bright. “Twice already. I’m tired just by looking at you.”

“Don’t worry,” Sonny chuckles, “I got a few more rounds in me.”

“Good. You can have this one on me.” He drags his lips up his arm, crossing his wrist and over his elbow and leaning over to peck his bicep. Sonny flexes his arm, just for a tease, and Rafael laughs into it. “Still showing off?”

“Only for you.” He adds a wink and wiggles to better sit under him. Rafael leans down to press a kiss against his neck, the first few chaste but growing fiercer as he travels down. He stays for longer, opens his mouth a bit more with each one, layers puffs of hot air onto his clavicle, and finally nips down on the skin below his collarbone. Sonny bucks and arches at the movements, one arm lazily falling around Rafael’s back so he can drag a hand through his hair. His moans are deep and rolling through his chest, so much so that Rafael can feel the vibrations.

“I wonder how many marks I’ve left on you already.” Rafael moves back to admire the new mark and then goes down to his right pec, to the one he had made between sucking him off. “I’ve already lost count.”

Sonny sighs, one hand creeping down his back to knead an ass cheek between his fingers. “Not enough.”

“Mm. You’re right, Counselor.” Sonny shivers at the nickname—no, not a nickname, his title for one-half of his experience—and Rafael hops off him. “At least partially. Can you turn over?”

He raises an eyebrow but no objection, shifting his hips and lifting himself up so he can flop onto his stomach. His legs, folded like a pair of wings, have no choice but to drop behind him, legs spread out and elbows propped up, burying his soft but soaked cock into the sheets below. Rafael makes a mental note to change them, but for now, he wants to focus on the ass in front of him, framed by magenta and shaped to perfection. How Sonny has such an amazing ass, he won’t ever know.

“When was the last time we ate each other out?” He poses the question casually as if he was asking about when he last attended a family cookout or prepared a meal on a barbecue. The only inclination Sonny gives to know his words have been heard is the choked groan he releases and the shift of his hands.

“W-well, uh,” Sonny clears his throat and turns his head to look at him, “there was that time in the courthouse bathroom.”

“Yeah. There was.” Rafael places his hands between his cheeks and spreads them slowly, watching with a content quirk of a smile as his hole twitches at the cold exposure. “What else?”

He pauses in thought, his head hanging between his arms, and lets out a puff of air. “Shit. Before that, at your house, when we spilled—” He gasps, razor-sharp and jagged when Rafael licks a long stripe from his balls to his hole. Sonny shifts on his elbows and grunts. “When we spilled miso soup on the counters, fuck.”

Rafael gives a noncommittal hum and bites into the arc of his left ass cheek. Sonny lets loose a shivering breath and keens when Rafael sucks on the indent. He doesn’t want to make it sound so lewd, but his eyes are clouded with lust, and there’s little to no cons to it. So he does: Rafael presses the flat of his tongue to coat the mark in as much saliva as he can. He adds an extra nip as an extra bit of retaliation whenever Sonny pushes against his mouth or his hips cant into the bed. As if he hadn’t done enough already to goad him.

When he pulls back to admire the hickey he made, Sonny speaks up again and adds, “Before I tied you to the chair, we did it here. Twice.”

“We did,” Rafael pants, wiping off a stray strand of spit off his chin. “Do you remember the first time we did it?”

Sonny takes a moment to think about it and Rafael lets him, admiring the ass in front of him with slow touches and affectionate brushes. After a moment he trails up his spine, a smooth plane of alabaster, his shoulders curved like ivory. There are faded but pale scars on the backs of his arms and the top of his shoulders from a bullying incident when he was younger. They’re light now, so the only way Rafael knows they exist is from Sonny’s own recollection and when he drags a fingertip over the healed skin. Rafael likes—Rafael loves it all the same. Every curve and edge has a reason to be cherished and worshipped.

Rafael decides to keep his back clean of rosy marks; it’s too perfect to temporarily stain with his mouth, no matter how enticing it may be. Besides, there’s time to save that for another day. He places kisses to make up for it, first at the jut of his shoulders, ghosting to the dip of his back, and then to his ass. Sonny sighs into each one; his breathing has calmed down to easy exhales that provide a sensual atmosphere to contrast the fast-paced lust fueling them earlier. Even when they’re quenched for one another, they find a way to crank the dial all the way to deep intimacy. Rafael’s simply glad to be part of it.

“I think,” Sonny says, sagging into the sheets below, “the first time we tried rimming was at my place.”

“Here?” Rafael asks as he presses his thumb against his entrance. Sonny knows he’s responding to the question, but his body thinks better and bucks upward. The choked breath is just as pretty as the last time he raised it out of his chest.

“Yeah, shit. In here.” His breath hitches as Rafael nudges his thumb inside and wiggles his tongue alongside it. He keeps the laps at an easy pace, each one licking his inner walls. When he removes his thumb, leaving only his muscle nudged inside, Sonny sighs and drops his elbows from supporting his upper body, clenching the pillows in front of him instead. “Yes. Right there. C’mon, Rafael, please.”

Rafael hums, moving back to lick his hole and suck lightly over it. His right hand travels up his body, over his ass and into the small of his back. He flexes his fingers over the space like a kneading cat, swirling over his skin and massaging the muscle underneath. He wants nothing more than to make Sonny beg for it, to drag him over the edge and watch him spiral in sweat and praise and cum. “Where was I?”

“You were…” Sonny trails off, and Rafael watches him wiggle and buck when he wipes the saliva he left behind around and within his entrance. He must be drowning in the pleasure, sinking through the waves, if his silence was anything to go by. Rafael squeezes his ass and dives back in, his tongue pushing forward against clenching walls. He spreads his cheeks apart so he can go further in and squeezes them as a silent compliment. “Fuck. You were under me.”

“Mm.”

“Raf, I can’t,” he pants and takes a deep breath, “oh God, I can’t keep this up.”

Rafael lifts his head and wipes a strip of saliva off his chin. “Keep what up? Your erection?” He reaches between his legs and squeezes his balls. Sonny whimpers at the touch and tries to shift into his hand but he moves away. Rafael pinches the cheek not marked by a love bite. “I’ve barely done anything.”

Sonny huffs and manages to shoot a glare over his shoulder. “Asshole.”

“Well. I am looking at it.” Rafael flicks his tongue over the puckered opening and relishes in the shiver beneath him. His other hand molds against his sack and tugs at his balls, massaging and pulling and rubbing them until he’s jerking into his palm. It takes a few attempts for the detective to speak up, but when he does, it’s broken and fluttering and desperate.

“Just. Just let me come. Please.”

Rafael plunges further and points his tongue against his walls. Sonny clenches in reaction, burrowing his hips into the bed and crying out. His hands fly to his crotch, forcing his face into the pillow, and join Rafael’s right hand in pulling his cock thoroughly. The yell he releases when he makes the contact is intense, and his fingers grip his shaft, just a peek of it showing when he raises his hips and pushes his ass further against Rafael’s mouth. The small shift further is all that is needed to have Sonny writhing under him and groaning as he climaxes again. Sonny’s body falls further into the bed, as if there was any way to go in further, and tenses up as he spills onto the bed and both of their hands. Rafael keeps pulling at his balls with one hand and spreading his ass with the other to get a few more licks at his hole. When he does pull away, he does so with a teasing smack of his lips and a satisfied sigh.

Sonny scoffs and allows Rafael to help turn him onto his side. His left leg stays upright, but his right one stays level with the bed, making his softened cock and the mess he has made more visible. “You’re such an ass.”

“You shouldn’t be figuring this out now,” he taunts softly, reaching up to run a hand through the silver locks of his hair. “I think I made that clear from the start.”

“God, you think you’re so funny.” Sonny twists onto his back again and lets out a long sigh. “Fuck. You really wanna ruin me, huh?”

“Just a little. Are your legs okay? Do you need me to untie them?”

“No.” He offers a faint smile and reaches for Rafael, who takes his hand and tangles their fingers together. “But if you make me come my brains out one more time, we might have to.”

“Lucky for you, I only have one more thing planned.” Rafael runs a hand over his chest, toying with his nipple and tweaking the nub, and sits up. There is, in fact, one more thing he has planned for Sonny, and he doubts he’d be able to do anything else after this. It’s why he saved it for last: Sonny will be turned into a pile of limbs and deep breaths, fully satisfied and thoroughly pleased.

With a swivel of his hips, Sonny adjusts himself and shuts his eyes when Rafael moves down to his chest and kisses the center. His hands roam over pale skin, gentle and slow; he notices that there is a considerable lack of hickeys on him. How negligible. Rafael crouches over his neck to kiss his jaw, lap up his neck, and settle in his shoulder. He sucks at the spot before he bites down at the juncture and rolls his teeth over the surface. Sonny wraps his arms around him and holds him closer, pushing him down against the new love bite.

He may have joked that Rafael is the koala of the two, but the way Sonny envelops him in gentle care and sweet love will never stop amazing him. It’s difficult to count any previous lovers who may have accomplished that feat. But it all falls back to Sonny, with a warm smile that crinkles his eyes and a deep drive to do good to anyone who crosses his path.

Sonny lets out a soft “oh” when Rafael puckers his lips and presses on the hickey. He moves his head back to properly look at it and then sits up enough to make eye contact with blue eyes. The red marks on his chest, his stomach, his neck, flutter over Sonny like small birds. The one on his neck is shaped into a sort of vee, just enough to pang the center of his chest.

“Those hickeys look like tiny hearts,” he whispers into Sonny’s long neck. The shiver that runs through his body tells him just how much the comment affects him. Rafael continues with a smile, maybe a bit too warm, but worth the exposure of something so intimate and deep. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

Sonny’s face glows with a flattering shade of crimson, and he turns his head into the pillow under his head. “Now who had the sense fucked out of him?”

Rafael pouts, more a joke at Sonny’s habit than anything, but he instantly starts chuckling when Sonny bursts into an amused laugh. “What? Am I not allowed to be sappy?”

“You can be. Doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to question what you’re saying.”

“Sounds like you’re being judgmental to me.”

Sonny tugs him down and kisses him; there’s no way it’s not meant to shut him up, but Rafael takes it either way. He would never find a reason to complain about his kisses, even as a joke. He occupies himself with molding their mouths together and tasting him. When he reaches up to cup his cheek, Sonny already has his fingers wrapped around his wrist and holding him there. Rafael relishes in the pressure and chuckles when Sonny nibbles his lip.

“I think you convinced me,” Rafael sighs against him.

Sonny smiles and connects their lips, his free hand holding the back of Rafael’s neck. “You know,” he hums, “I know you had something else planned, but I think I could come just from kissing you.”

“You probably could. Do you want to try it out?”

“Not today. I wanna try the vibrator.”

Rafael smirks, sharing one last kiss with him, and moves back to grab the vibrator from the end of the bed. He unravels the cord and stretches it out to test how long it’ll be; if they move Sonny up a bit, they could reach the toy to the outlet behind the nightstand. He looks up when he feels Sonny’s eyes on him, and he laughs under his breath when a folded leg bumps into him. “What, have you never seen one before?”

“You’re so funny.” Sonny watches him get up from the bed and plug it into the wall. Rafael doesn’t need to follow his gaze to know he’s looking at his dick, which has started to react again to his naked body.

“What do you want me to do?” He asks, fully intending to make this moment the best either of them can achieve for the night. “Where do you want me?”

Sonny blinks as if breaking out from a daze and rolls his shoulder. “Is that a trick question?”

“It’s a legitimate question, Sonny.” The only reason why he adds his name to the end of that statement is to stop himself, again, from saying something that could be considered a pet name. He really needs to do something about that if he wants to avoid slipping up. The next time, he might not be so quick to stop it.

“If you’re offering,” Sonny eyes his dick and licks his lips, and they both try to avoid the small bead of precome that dribbles from the head in response, “then I guess you could let me suck you off.”

“Repay the favor?”

Sonny nods, a bit too excited, and shifts on the bed. Rafael sits down beside him and places a thankful kiss on his forehead. Even if it goes against the entire plan he had for the night—Sonny would be the center of attention and Rafael would be the one showering him with it—there’s no way he can betray such a small request. Not with this man, at least.

“If you insist,” he mumbles, and Sonny steals a quick peck with a biting grin, “then it looks like I don’t have much of a choice.”

Rafael slides the vibrator on, and Sonny hops to attention at the sound. His cock is growing tall and hard once more—his libido is seriously impressive, Rafael muses to himself—and ready to start. Thankfully, as Rafael quickly realizes when he stretches his arm and the toy outward, the vibrator covers just enough ground to reach as far down as his scrotum. He looks once more at Sonny, all wide-eyed and panting despite not having any contact from the toy. It strikes him how incredibly lucky he is to have a man who is so compatible with him on such a deep level: intimately, intensely, and romantically.

“If anything hurts, you tell me immediately. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Sonny smiles at him and nods. “You have my word.”

His heart twists at the words, soaked in affection, and Rafael presses the vibrator against his shaft. Sonny shuts his eyes immediately and lets out a wrangled cry, one hand writhing in the bedsheets from overstimulation while the other blindly reaches for Rafael. He takes Sonny’s hand and chuckles at the taut clench of fingers paired with the rise of the vibrator’s rounded edge up his cock. “How’s it feel?”

Sonny shakes his head with a groan. “C-can’t talk.” He pants and adjusts his grip around Rafael’s hand, eyes flying open when he shifts a bit closer and his dick bobs with the motion. “Fuck.”

“That intense?” Rafael smirks as he raises the vibrations to the second level and holds the toy against his head, which leaks and twitches at the contact. “At this rate, I don’t even know if you’ll have enough energy to suck me off.”

“I will!” He looks mildly offended by the tease and tries to roll closer, but it moves the vibrator off of him. If Rafael had anything to do with it, he doesn’t react, especially not to the irritated pout that Sonny throws at him. His only response is to return the vibrator to his dick and soothe the pout with an open-mouthed kiss.

Sonny moans and reaches over to grab Rafael at the base of his dick. The surprised gasp is swallowed by the man beneath him, hands dragging through his hair to hold him down. Rafael presses the head of the toy into his shaft and lets it pulse down the edge until it hits the base. Sonny moves his head back and tosses it against the pillow, the cry wrangled from his throat hoarse and worn.

“Shit, shit, shit.” His legs frame his arm as they raise and knock together. Rafael runs his hand over his right thigh, just tapping at the rope binding his thigh to his ankle. They must have been quivering since he first came with the rope holding him in place. Just like they are when he can stretch them out, they are just as mesmerizing bound and folded and shaking. Occasionally, he’ll flex his calves or roll his ankles as he normally would, but they result in nothing more than twitches and tugs against the rope. It’s still something to admire, and he drinks in the sight and motion.

Sonny mouths over the head of his cock, moaning when Rafael moves his hips just enough to place the tip into his mouth. Instantly, his dick is surrounded by a wet heat that warms him all over, locked in by suctioned cheeks. “Fuck.” Rafael runs a hand through Sonny’s hair and squeezes the gray strands gathered at his temple. Sonny looks up at him, humming around his cock, and sucks his cheeks in again. Rafael tries to bite back a yell, but with one hand holding onto his head and the other controlling the vibrator, it hisses out between lips tightly pressed together and clenched teeth. His answer is putting the vibrator up to the third setting, and Sonny chokes around his dick and has to pull back with a sputter.

“Please, please,” he cries out, “I can’t keep this up.” His head falls back and his tongue hangs out the side of his mouth. It’s a miracle his eyes are able to stay open, but even the half-lidded stare brings out the color of his eyes even more than usual. “Rafael. C’mon, please, I need this.”

“Just a bit longer, Sonny, I promise.” Rafael pecks his forehead and rolls the rounded end of the toy against the base of his erection. Sonny chokes on a whimper, breathless and weak, his eyes shut as another vibration quivers through him. His lips wrap around Rafael again and work over the shaft of the thick cock. Rafael seizes his head and moans wantonly at the pressure. “Fuck. Yes, Sonny, keep going.”

Sonny moves off with a gasp, desperate and soaked with saliva, and grips the base of his cock. “I wanna make it to the last one. I want it. I need it.” The yearning stare he gives him just about breaks Rafael in half. He never knew such blue eyes could wreck him as much as Sonny himself has been. “I wanna taste your cum. I wanna watch you come apart. But I want the highest setting first.”

“Are you sure?” Rafael lifts the vibrator in the air and cups his face. He doesn’t want his answer coerced and he doesn’t want to force him into a response. He has led Sonny, legs bound in a frog tie and spread open, to the edge four times in the span of the afternoon, which is already pushing his limit.

Sonny nods. “Yes. Please.”

It’s all he needs to hear—and see, for that matter, sincere blue flooding over him as he puts the vibrator to the highest setting and grabs his dick. Sonny gasps and bucks into the air, graceful in a euphoric rush, and he comes quietly. The only thing able to escape his mouth is broken hiccups of pleasure and accented cries that tremble as his stomach is coated in his cum. He grabs himself but it looks like a grounding measure more than an encouraging one; Sonny’s body crumbles when his fingers wrap around his shaft.

Watching him release over himself and writhe on the bed was enough to please him, but the thing that does Rafael in are Sonny’s legs. When he climaxed, his legs rose in the air and quaked and squeezed every drop of him. Some cum had splattered onto his thighs and clung to the rope as a result, and it was an enticing sight to witness the curve of his knees and the turn of his ankles and the curl of his toes. Rafael barely has time to warn Sonny, but he takes a preemptive measure when his breath hitches, and he shuts his eyes so Rafael can coat his face in white streaks. Most of it falls across his cheeks and nose, one stray line landing a bit too close to his eye, but he leaves his mouth open in an attempt to catch more. Rafael purposely tilts his hips so he can taste him, fulfilling Sonny’s request. He turns off and drops the vibrator so he can lean down and connect their foreheads.

“There you go,” Rafael sighs. The younger man is already smiling in contentment and relaxing, limb and pleasantly weary, into the bed. He is ridiculously into this man, and he cannot escape. “There you go.”

Rafael unties Sonny and lets him stretch his legs, propped against the headboard, while he changes the sheets. If they were the spare set, he wouldn’t think twice of leaving them on the washer, but he knows Sonny prefers those sheets more and decides to put them in. When he returns to the bedroom, his body worn but sated, Sonny has his head back against the headboard, water bottle in hand and eyes shut, face still messy with Rafael’s cum.

“Don’t fall asleep.” Rafael tosses the new bedding onto the bed and unfurls a sheet. Sonny opens an eye to look at him but returns to relaxing, breathing steady and soft. “I still have to make your bed and clean you up.”

He does it as quickly as he can, as efficiently as he can, and with Sonny’s occasional shifts or assistance. When he finishes, Rafael rinses a washcloth in the bathroom and cleans Sonny’s face and chest. He slides the jockstrap off, rubbing his thighs and calves in the process, before he allows Sonny to climb into bed and tug him under the covers. Long arms wrap around Rafael the second his head touches the pillow, tight and warm and inviting. Rafael smiles into the embrace and mimics the gesture with a soft kiss to the long neck in front of him. They can worry about dinner later; they’ll definitely have an appetite for one. But right now, they both need to sleep.

“Looks like I’m the koala now,” Sonny hums into his shoulder, half-asleep already and clearly satiated.

“Looks like you are,” Rafael whispers. “If I had a few more inches, I could be the giraffe.”

Sonny snorts and ruffles his hair affectionately. “You can be a giraffe in my eyes, Raf.”

A sudden question pops up in his head, right before he accepts the pulls of sleep, and Rafael sits up a bit to look down at his bed partner. Sonny turns his head and blinks up at him, a bit bleary-eyed but listening nonetheless. “When did you start calling me ‘Raf’?”

Sonny looks at him for a moment and sniffs. “Uh, dunno. Can’t remember.” He pauses and bites his lip. “If you don’t like it, I can stop.”

“No, I like it. I was just wondering.” It might not have been the best question to ask when they were so tired, but he was struck by how easy it had been to permit it in the first place. Sonny has made a nice home in his heart. “No bed partner has ever called me that, is all. Not as an affectionate nickname.”

Sonny yawns and shrugs, eyes falling shut again. “There’s only one bed partner, I guess.”

There is. Rafael accepts that fact as he drifts off between Sonny’s arms, letting the smile cross his face as he holds the other man close to his body and his heart.

* * *

Sonny’s birthday is in two days. Per Carisi tradition, according to the family’s only son, the festivities start the night before. His family had bought tickets for a basketball game with Fordham’s women’s team on the 27th, their last home game of the regular season. The next day, the 28th, he would have dinner with his family as a proper birthday dinner. Since Sonny was born on the 29th of February, his actual birth date only came every four years. The family usually had something fun planned for their birthdays, as far as Rafael knew, and for Sonny, it was no different. He simply enjoyed the four years of waiting for big bashes and, more importantly, spending time with his family since they didn’t get to see him as often as they liked.

Rafael is in his apartment—and at such a late time for once—putting the finishing touches to a summation when he gets the texts. The first two are pictures of the family, one excluding any kids or in-laws and one including the additions, all of them in maroon Fordham shirts. The nieces and nephew love Sonny as much as he loves them, so there’s one for them, goofy smiles mid-laugh and holding up three fingers. Each member of the immediate family has their own picture with him; he looks most like his mother, with blue eyes and fair skin and extroverted personality clearly represented in the stills, but he has his father’s crinkly smile and lanky build.

And just like Rafael recalls, his sisters have their own brand of crazy. Teresa, the eldest, has a rather nice picture with Sonny where the two of them are hugging each other tightly around the shoulders and squinting at the camera, a bit too off to be completely natural; Gina and Sonny face each other and have an arm over each other’s shoulder, posed rather sassily as if to make a statement; Bella, of course, is the sweetest one, with her arms around her brother’s middle and Sonny’s around her shoulders from their height difference, but their expressions of pure glee represented perfectly from the photos.

The last one has to be a candid shot. Sonny is turned to the game, mid-celebration, and smiling beautifully. His eyes are crinkled and his grin is wide, dimples deep and smile satisfied. Rafael can’t help but smile along, writing out a response immediately. _Nice pictures. How was the game? _

He doesn’t expect Sonny to answer right away but he does. _ AMAZING!!! Winning season at home and third in our conference. _

_ I’m not even going to pretend to know what that means, but congratulations. _

His phone pings with a notification a few minutes later, the summation finished and a nightcap alone to close the night. It’s a selfie of Sonny, thumb pointed up, smile soft but big, eyes tender but affectionate. Rafael can’t kid himself anymore with a face like that. He’s in love.

_ Happy birthday, Sonny_, he replies back, saving the picture to his phone before he second-guesses himself.

The answer nearly splits his heart in half with how tender it sounds, even through digital words. Rafael has to refrain from holding his phone to his chest like a lovestruck teenager. Even with the simplicity of the message, sometimes they don’t need to prepare a whole monologue to get their point across.

_ Thanks, Raf. <3 _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys Barisi is in love
> 
> And yes Rafael Barba was dressed to look like Freddie Trumper and YES I have thought about Barisi fucking in leather jackets what of it
> 
> In this universe, "Undiscovered Country" did not happen and if Raul Esparza doesn't know why Barba killed a baby, then you know what it's not canon here
> 
> Anyway here's the lingerie that the boys picked out: Rafael went with [this piece](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/61eGDATtZsL._SY355_.jpg) and Sonny picked out [this one](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/1186/6738/products/candyman-jockstrap-in-burgundy-4692301611069_1080x.jpg?v=1559734932). And [this](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/1186/6738/products/candyman-jockstrap-in-burgundy-4692301643837_1080x.jpg?v=1559734932) is the backside to that (this picture is an ass so please be careful opening it)


	8. Raspberry Beret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are you doing this Saturday?” Carisi asks.
> 
> “Probably destressing from whatever mess the three of you bring me.”
> 
> “Funny. Do you wanna go to the game with me?”
> 
> Rafael can’t help but laugh at that, amusement filling his voice. He takes a sip of his coffee for some liquid courage. “Are you asking me out on a date, Detective?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...here we go. The last chapter of "Bed Partners"
> 
> I think this is my most successful Barisi fic. It's almost 80k and like 90% of it is just smut. To think I would be actively writing again, with multiple tabs and windows to track my stories and ideas, is so surreal to me. I told myself I was putting this off bc I did NaNoWriMo and then an Advent calendar for writing, but honestly I did not want this story to end and that is why I have to post things when I finish writing them lmaoooooo
> 
> Anyway I am really excited for everyone to read this. I have a few more stories I wanna tell in this (canon compliant but also canon divergent) universe but there's only one more for their pre-relationship and then everything else is current for them AND IM HONESTLY SO EXCITED  
No spoilers but it's a callback to the first Barisi fic I posted oof
> 
> Anyway I'm rambling now I hope you enjoy this last chapter of this smutty mess of a fic! <3

Contrary to what some may believe, Rafael does not lay out his clothes the night before. He has the idea for a color scheme when he gets ready for bed but he doesn’t do anything about it until he wakes up. After that, it’s just natural that he picks up what he wants.

For this workday, right in the middle of March, Rafael picks out his gray suit first—not too light, not too dark. The best shirt to go with it is a pink that he can only compare to the likeness of a flamingo’s feathers. The pocket square is darker, a nice magenta shade decorated with white dotted lines, mirrored and reversed in his socks. His tie, always the last detail, is a color that screams to him in song lyrics. The kind that a woman could find in a second-hand store, best symbolized in an 80s pop song. Rafael is satisfied with the reflection that smooths over the creases and thoroughly runs his hands over him, from the suspenders strapped over his shoulders to his loafers.

Luckily, it’s not as dark or dreary as it has been; March is a month that sits between dreary winter weather and the fresh spread of spring. Today, it feels more like the latter than it has in a while. Rafael tosses a light jacket over his arm just in case and walks out of his apartment.

His first stop is to court for two arraignments he picked up for a coworker who was trying to wrangle two sick kids before his wife took over for the afternoon. He runs into three defense attorneys between them, two who are actively trying to plea out of multiple felonies for a slap on the wrist he refuses to give, another he will have to see in the upcoming weeks if his memory serves him right. By ten-thirty, he’s back at his office and filling out paperwork and preparing for other cases. He has one case starting in court next week and, as easy as it may be for him, he is never taking chances and putting someone’s justice in reckless hands.

SVU calls him around noon—which, for him, is a handful of peanuts and the remaining drops he can drip out from the carafe in his office—to sit in on a suspect’s interrogation to view their legal options. He offers to bring them coffee to refuel the efforts of New York’s apparent finest. And despite it being just a few days since last seeing him, the second he steps off the elevator with a drink carrier in one hand and his briefcase in the other, he can hear Carisi’s excited yelling.

“Yes! Hell yeah, let’s go!”

Rafael rounds the corner and sidles up to Liv, who is watching the scene in front of her with mild amusement. Carisi, Rollins, and Fin are huddled around Rollins’ laptop and watching the screen, Carisi with obvious and clear joy, Rollins and Fin chuckling and congratulating him on whatever was going on. Liv turns when he pops up beside her and takes the drink marked with her name with a soft thanks. Rafael nods to the small congregation before them. “What are we watching?”

“March Madness,” she chuckles.

“March what?”

“A college basketball tournament. They’re announcing the bracket today and Fordham just got put in.”

Well, that would explain why Sonny has been buzzing about basketball since he attended the Fordham game for a birthday gift. Rafael’s interests had always been in baseball, as far as sports went, so it was difficult for him to follow along. “I hope your suspect isn’t waiting because of this.”

“Actually,” Liv says, hiding a smirk behind her coffee, “his lawyer is in traffic. So it’ll be a few more minutes.”

Rafael snorts. “Glad I left when I did. I’ll make my rounds and my congratulations.”

“Take your time. It might be a bit.”

“How unfortunate.” They share an amused laugh before Rafael finally heads over to the other detectives. The second he takes two steps toward them, the trio raises their heads and Carisi bolts forward. He wraps his hands tight around his shoulders and squeezes; Rafael tightens his hold on the drink carrier to prevent them from falling and spilling perfect cups of coffee all over the floor. And to steel himself from doing anything telling in front of his coworkers.

“Barba,” he breathes out, “Fordham did it. They’re in the tournament.”

“I heard,” Rafael chuckles. “Liv was telling me. Congratulations.”

“Don’t sound too excited, Counselor,” Rollins says.

“Basketball never made sense to me. Nor do I have the time.”

“They did well enough that they have a chance to win the national tournament,” Carisi beams.

“And they’re on the same side of the bracket with two teams that have more than enough experience,” Rollins points out.

“You never know what can happen in a game of basketball!” In a second bout of joy, Carisi hops in the air—Rafael just narrowly ducks out of the way to stop him from knocking the drinks away, which Fin and Rollins happily take from him to help avoid—and gives a celebratory cry.

“Keep it down, Carisi,” the desk sergeant yells from the front desk.

Carisi, thrumming with energy and hopping on each foot, grins. His dimples only dig further into his cheeks, his enthusiasm barely held down by anyone’s limitations. Rafael feels his heart trip over itself in his chest. He has had too many realizations just how much attraction he has for this man, and yet he is never any closer to getting used to it.

“I haven’t even said the best part yet,” Carisi says. Rafael just manages to get the coffee—a bit of cream, two sugars, and some cinnamon—into his hand. “They’re playing at Syracuse, which is only three hours from here!”

“Try four,” Fin corrects. “It might as well be Canada.”

“Are you really thinking of going up there just for the game?” Rollins states with a bewildered stare.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Carisi asks. “They’ve done really well this year.” A look of realization crosses his face, and he leans against her desk. “If you wanna come—”

Rollins answers immediately. “I’m good. I can’t take that much orange.”

“You sure it’s not because your team might play the winner of their side of the bracket?” Fin teases. Rollins pouts as Carisi turns to him, but Fin barely reacts. “I would go, but I told Ken and Alejandro I’d watch Jaden for date night that day. So I gotta be in town for them.”

Rafael had been half-listening to the conversation, scrolling through his phone and familiarizing himself with the case he was getting ready for. He is only partially aware of the conversation, so the three pairs of silent staring is a surprise to look up to. Carisi is eyeing him expectantly; Rollins and Fin are a bit more curious and interested. Rafael looks over all three of them before landing on Carisi. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“What are you doing this Saturday?” Carisi asks.

“Probably destressing from whatever mess the three of you bring me.” He smirks at a disgruntled Rollins and the unimpressed look that Carisi gives him.

“Funny.” Carisi rolls his eyes and makes him smile. “Do you wanna go to the game with me?”

Rafael can’t help but laugh at that, amusement filling his voice. He takes a sip of his coffee for some liquid courage. “Are you asking me out on a date, Detective?”

To his surprise, Carisi shrugs, his shoulders bobbing up once and his eyes darting to the floor. Rafael has a feeling that he is alluding to something more intimate, something that is more aligned with their intimate nights. They hadn’t ventured much in conversations for what their relationship could mean in public, but Rafael had thought of making some sort of advancement in the near future. “I dunno. Do you want me to?”

His better judgment tells him to keep his distance, and his coworkers’ suspicions, to a minimum, but Rafael sidles closer to him and tilts his head. “I might. What will it entail for me?”

“A basketball game, a free meal, maybe a decent hotel room.” Carisi lets loose a coy smile. “And, y’know, some time away from the city.”

“Mm. It’s tempting.” Rafael’s eyes dart down to his lips, reminded of the soft pressure that was applied to his mouth just a few days ago. He misses it—the small pieces of intimacy scattered through the day, the mere presence of a man he was intellectually and physically attracted to and who shared those feelings, the simplicity of a personal and private relationship. Rafael never thought he could find those feelings in another; he didn’t see them when he was growing up and he never found anyone to reach those expectations. “Anything else?”

Carisi’s eyes follow a similar path to his lips, but he forces his eyes back up when the suspect is brought in. Rollins and Fin—both of whom are staring between the two of them with bewilderment and what must be disbelief—go to handle the problem, but it still makes Carisi move back with a quiet sigh. Rafael starts to reach out to bring him back but thinks better of it and stops himself from committing to it. “We’ll talk about it later. How’s that sound?”

“Good. I’ll be here.” Rafael offers a smile for compensation. Carisi returns the gesture, warm and kind and promising of something good.

* * *

The discussion with the lawyer and their suspect lasts about fifteen minutes. Rafael and Liv are able to convince them to take a deal and aid them in the bigger case they’re building against the private school’s football team. Even if he would rather drag the nineteen-year-old through a trial for his incompetence and failure to act, there’s a battle for a bigger and more serious case building. Liv has encouraged all of them, including herself by the looks of it, to pick and choose their battles.

Rafael shares a look with Liv when they walk out of her office; he makes a show of shutting the door behind them and lets out a dramatic sigh. “Well. I’m glad you wasted both of our time.”

Liv rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair, glasses discarded on top of her head. “It was Selen’s choice. She felt bad for Marcus, he was nice to her.”

“That doesn’t excuse what happened to her. But,” he simpers, “if that’s really what she wants, I’ll do what I can to help her.”

“Thanks for the sacrifice. At the very least, it’s one less case you have on your plate.”

Rafael smirks. “You say that like it’s helping me out.”

Liv shoots him a look and downs the rest of her coffee. “Well, when your stress levels are lower than they would be, I’ll be sure to take the credit.”

“I’ll remember that.” Rafael takes a glance at the squad room; Rollins is doing something at the board, Fin is at the computer, and Sonny is nowhere in sight. Now that he’s fulfilled his main reason for being here, the opportunity to talk to his bed partner is available. “Anything else you need from me?”

“If you want to hand these to Rollins and Carisi on your way out,” she extends a manila folder to him. Rafael pretends not to notice mischievous glint lingering in her eyes.

He drops the folder off with Rollins and asks Carisi’s whereabouts; he’s directed to the break room, where a lanky form is clearly standing in front of a vending machine. Rafael takes a deep breath before he enters the room. He had thought of the possibility of going to the basketball game, even if it was four hours away and made him virtually trapped with him for a weekend. But Rafael sees it as their first opportunity to try something outside of their bedroom.

Carisi looks over at him when he enters and smiles quickly in greeting. The tension Rafael didn’t even realize he had bottled in his chest sags. “Hey. I didn’t get to tell you this before but you look good today.”

Rafael smooths out his tie instinctively at the compliment. “Thank you.” It’s the only thing he can manage—Sonny has proven to have a rather impressive skill of removing all of his words and thoughts with just a few words and a smile. Like a kid with a schoolyard crush, the mere acknowledgment of a trivial action is addicting. He just manages to hold out the folder, wracking his brain for a proper response that doesn’t make him pounce on the detective. “Liv wanted me to give this to you on my way out.”

“Thanks,” Carisi grins. He pages through it for a moment before he places it on the round table. “I was gonna go through the case from the beginning and see if there’s anything we missed. How did your meeting go?”

“Fine,” Rafael says, sitting into the chair. Carisi turns back to the vending machines and presses a button for a snack. “Charlie gave us what we needed, and as much as it pains me to not include him with the charges, I’m hoping it’ll help Selene sleep better at night.”

“I think it will. He tried to be a friend to her before this happened and just got stuck between wanting something for himself and doing what others wanted from him.” Carisi—Sonny, Rafael points out, since it’s only the two of them and they won’t be discussing work anytime soon—enters another dollar and grabs a bag of peanut M&Ms. “I bet it’s a load off your back, though, to not have to worry about one extra charge, yeah?”

Rafael snorts under his breath. “That’s what Liv said. I guess I can see the benefit of it.” Sonny holds out the bag of M&Ms for him, and Rafael takes it with a soft thanks. “At the very least, I can worry about other cases in preparation for the weekend.”

Sonny eyes him cautiously, glancing around the break room as he strides over to the door and closes it with a silent click. “Speaking of the weekend, we can talk about the basketball game.”

His stomach lurches. Rafael reins in his nerves and nods. “We can. I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come, but if you insist,” he fiddles with the bag of chocolate in his hands, breathing out slow and calm, “I don’t have any objections.”

Sonny sits across from him, excitement clearly flowing through him, feet tapping under the table. “You sure? I know you aren’t a basketball fan, but I think it can be something that we can do together.”

Rafael finally manages to open the chocolate peanuts. He pops a few in his mouth to occupy himself while he steadies his brain. Sonny’s hand is inches from his and getting closer, it seems, just out of reach but available for comfort just in case. “Together. What would we be going as?”

“Uh.” Sonny rolls his shoulders, eyes flitting across the room nervously. “W-well, it can be whatever you want. I’m not asking you to make it anything. We can go as friends—it doesn’t have to be a date.”

Joke. Snark. Make this whole thing lighter. Rafael lets the edges of his lips curl into a smirk. “What, you haven’t been catching feelings for me this whole time?”

Thankfully, Sonny mirrors his expression, draining the tension from his shoulders. “And you haven’t? I was starting to think you were smitten for me.”

“Smitten.” He likes the sound of it. His captured heart definitely has no protests to it either. At least they’re both in the same boat—over-the-moon, pining, hopelessly and utterly devoted. “Well, you aren’t wrong. This thing between us, whatever it may be, stopped being about sex for me a long time ago.”

Sonny blinks at that and finally looks away. Rafael wishes the swimming blue turned back to him so he could admire them again. Just for a few more minutes. “Oh. So…it wasn’t just me.”

Rafael smiles. It feels more real than anything he’s ever shared, even with this man who has shared bedrooms with him countless times for over a year now. For a long time, Sonny has been right here next to him, and he never noticed until it smacked him in the face. And all because of The Tie. “I don’t think it ever was just you. What’s a partnership without two people?”

His brows furrow, ever so slightly and definitely adorably, at that. “Partnership?”

“For the bedroom. Bed partners.”

Realization hits him at the words, used so long ago by Sonny to describe what they were, and he laughs immediately. Rafael joins him, if only so the sound never has to stop. If their hands find each other, he can think about it later. He wants to enjoy this moment for as long as he can before he’s forced back to work, where he will return to a home devoid of a man who emits sunshine from every part of his body and already knows so many sides to him.

“Bed partners,” Sonny grins, obviously smitten, and Rafael catches a few more feelings.

* * *

Rafael always thought that the cliches of relationships were ridiculous and overbearing in their entirety. The feeling of longing as soon as a partner walked out of sight. The struggle of combing through miles of shirts in preparation for a night out. The desire to rub bare flesh together and listen with rapt attention to the lullabies produced by heartbeats. Rafael always thought it was silly.

He does not acknowledge the joy that sprouts in his chest as he watches Sonny’s car pull up to the curb, in front of Rafael’s apartment building. He ignores the hope that the ninth sweater, fourth maroon shirt, he had picked out is good enough for their day out. He certainly dismisses the touch of their hands as, after throwing his suitcase in the trunk and getting in the car, Sonny hands him a steaming Styrofoam cup.

From there, although they might not realize it quite yet, their life as a pair is far from over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Catching Feelings" and "Smitten" were two of the fics that really helped encourage me to , and the writers of those works—soul_writerr and mforpaul—are two of my favorite people in the world now because of their encouragement and the constant yelling we share in DMs and I could not thank them enough for their support <3
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has given this story a chance! It means so much to me that this story has gotten so much support and I cannot thank you all enough <3 see you at the next fic!

**Author's Note:**

> My older sister wants to watch SVU so she can understand my screaming about lawyer boyfriends who deserved better than what they got and if that's not the legacy I want to leave behind then WHAT IS


End file.
